Lord of Shadows by Alix Rickloff Read Free Book Online Page A

sorts of dangers lay beyond our boundaries. Worse for someone who’d have no idea from where the danger might come.” Her words came faster, her thoughts racing ahead of her tongue. “No, he must stay. At least until he recovers his health. And Idiscover . . . I mean, we discover who he is and what happened to him.” Now she babbled, plain and simple.
    Ard-siúr’s wrinkles stretched in a half smile. “You’ve taken quite an interest in Daigh MacLir’s fate.”
    Heat crept up Sabrina’s throat to stain her cheeks.
    Ard-siúr nodded her dismissal, moving past Sabrina toward the door. Turning in a swish of skirts. “I nearly forgot. The letter.” Returning to her desk, she pulled a folded and sealed page from a drawer. Handed it over. “I believe it’s from your brother.”
    “Kilronan?” Sabrina asked stupidly, the smooth, expensive foolscap slippery beneath her fingers.
    Ard-siúr caught her in a sharp, appraising look. “Would you be expecting word from another brother?”
    A dull lump swelled in her chest. Oh, why had she felt it necessary to put the whole horrible episode down on paper? She’d not dwelled on her family’s fractured separation for years. Now she knew why. It hurt too much. “No, ma’am. No letter. Nothing.”
    “Very well. You may go.”
    Sabrina slid the letter into her apron pocket. Moved with stinging eyes toward the door. Wiped them with the back of her sleeve. She’d tried putting her family behind her. But reliving that tragic day had brought all her hurt and abandonment to the surface like oil upon water.
    “And Sabrina?”
    “Ma’am?”
    Ard-siúr’s solemn, weighty stare pinned her to the floor. “Should Brendan Douglas ever attempt to contact you, you will let me know, won’t you?”
    Sabrina escaped without answering. Jostled her blind way through a crowd of women in the passage. DisregardedJane’s shouted halloo across the cloister. Ignored Sister Brigh’s outraged mutter as she bumped into her upon the dormitory stairs.
    Only stopped to catch her breath in the blessed momentary privacy of her bedchamber. Shuddering. Her back pressed against the door panels. Stupid tears burning her eyes.
    For seven years she’d assumed Brendan was dead. How else to account for his lack of letters or visits or any word at all. But could the
Amhas-draoi
be telling the truth? Could Brendan still live? Could he be the blackhearted villain they claimed he was?
    Ard-siúr certainly seemed to believe it.
    So, what if he did contact her?
    Where did her true loyalty reside?
    If asked to make a choice between her old family and her new, whom would she betray?

Daigh scanned the room he’d been brought to with a searching eye. Desk. Case clock. A pairing of old cane-backed chairs. A long, low table upon which stood decanters, a scattering of various stones, shards of quartz, a bowl of dried petals. Thick Turkey carpets covered the flagged floor. Wall tapestries moved in the incessant breeze through poorly chinked mortar. He found himself transfixed by stags and hounds in regal red and gold. Stylized sea creatures amid a woolen sea of blues and greens. Flowers and leaves needled in exquisite detail so that one’s eye couldn’t help but follow the woven floral design across the cloth. A rendering of gray-veiled attendants following a curtained litter toward an open tomb. He scowled, focusing on a lone attendant standing with outstretched hands and eyes cast up toward a single star.
    “You’ve recovered far faster than we expected, considering the shape you were in upon your arrival.”
    He drew his attention back from the puzzled tangleof his own impenetrable thoughts. Stood body braced and shoulders back. Met the triple spear-point stares of the trio of gray-gowned
bandraoi
with a sharp, assenting jerk of his head.
    “After discussing your health with Sister Ainnir, we’ve decided a busy mind and body may bring about your full recovery. Therefore, as you no longer require medical