born in late autumn.
Anoush had grown closer to her mother now that she was not in Cam or Bera’s company. Having learned from Dillon of Anoush’s proclivities for plants, Lara had started a small herb garden with her daughter. They would transplant Anoush’s plants to a new garden in Terah, Lara promised. She also taught the little girl small facts such as lavender being an excellent agent for those troubled by sleeplessness and chamomile tea being good for the nerves. One day she took the child up on Dasras with her. They traveled to the Obscura, where they watched the sea creatures playing in the waves. Anoush was fascinated by it all. The angry look had left her eyes, to Lara’s relief.
Then, on a perfect late-summer’s night, Lara and her two children lay upon a gentle hillock almost all of the evening and watched the flying stars streaking across the black skies before the moonrise. The earth beneath them smelled green and fresh with the early dew. Then with Dillon by her side Lara walked home carrying Anoush, who had fallen asleep.
“It was a perfect magical moment,” Dillon told his mother. “Why do the stars fly, Mother? But for this night they seem to be still in the heavens.”
“I don’t know,” Lara admitted. “That is a question we must ask Kaliq when we see him again, my son.”
“And when will that be?” Dillon wanted to know.
Lara laughed. “Oh, how you long to go to the Shadow Princes!” she teased. “But this will be the first time you have lived with me in several years. Let me have a little time with you, Dillon. I am certain Kaliq would agree with that.”
“You grown folk, magical or mortal, all stick together,” Dillon complained.
“’Tis the only way we can survive our young long enough to teach them,” Lara told him with a chuckle.
They entered the lord’s house, then the servant who had waited up for them barred the doors. Reaching the chamber she shared with her children each time she visited, Lara lay Anoush down in her bed with Zagiri, who was already sleeping, and drew the coverlet over them. She kissed her daughters and then she kissed her son who had already climbed into his own bed.
“Good night, Dillon. Sleep well.”
“I don’t know if I can,” Dillon replied. “It was such a wonderful evening, Mother.”
Lara ruffled his hair. “You will sleep,” she told him. Then she lay down in her own bed to rest. It had been a perfect summer. In another two weeks, Magnus would join them and they would all go to the Gathering together. She was anxious to see the other clan lords and learn how they were now faring after several years in the New Outlands. Liam said that everyone was content, but she needed to hear it from their own lips. When she had arrived two months ago, the fields below her had certainly looked fertile and green. And the horses belonging to the Aghy had looked fat. But what of the others? Were Rendor’s sheep thriving? Were the dwarfs in the Emerald Mountains still getting along with the Piaras and the Tormod? Having brought them all here she would always worry about them, Lara thought. But then her eyes began to droop and she fell into a contented sleep.
In the morning when Dillon awoke, he lay quietly considering the odd dream he had had in the night. It had seemed so very real, yet he was certain he had been sleeping. Yawning and stretching, he saw that his mother was already up. He knew she enjoyed viewing the sunrise and was usually awake before her children. Turning his head, Dillon noted his sisters were still sleeping. He smiled at them. They were both his mother’s daughters, and yet they were so very different. Zagiri was adventurous and absolutely sure of herself, which probably came from having a father in her life. Anoush, on the other hand was cautious and defensive, having lost her father before she ever knew him.
Dillon remembered Vartan well and he made it a point to tell Anoush often of how the great Outland lord had