walks, you can see the shadow of the Hunter, which is his other name.”
Morag rested her hands on her thighs. “My sister pointed out that there are no forests in Tir Alainn. I told herit was because life and death walk hand in hand there, that it was because forests have shadows and they’re too alive to be perfect.”
Ashk’s gaze returned to Morag. “Then you do understand. Pluck the weeds while they can still be plucked. The grass has its own place to grow. Let it grow there. But keep it out of the garden where it doesn’t belong.”
As they watched each other, a tension grew between them. Then a happy bark made Ashk turn, and the moment was broken.
“Ah,” Ashk said. “Here comes the person who can tell you what is weed and what is not.”
Getting to her feet, Morag saw Ari walking toward them while Merle ran exuberant circles around her. The big animal, half shadow hound, was still young enough to be puppyish in his behavior and had been acting even more so since being reunited with Ari.
When Ari reached one of the gates that opened into the big kitchen garden, she rested a hand on Merle’s head. “Go run and play in the meadow,” she said. “I’ll be right here with Morag and Ashk.”
Merle just looked at her and whined.
“It’s all right,” Ari said. She leaned toward him. “Go chase a bunny.”
With another happy bark, Merle turned and raced across the meadow, a black-streaked, gray shape. Only the tan forelegs gave away the fact that he wasn’t pure shadow hound.
Looking at the two women, Ari smiled ruefully. “When I closed him out of the bathing room last night, he sat at the door and howled.”
“We heard him,” Ashk said dryly. She laughed when Ari’s eyes widened.
“You may not have really heard him,” Morag grumbled, “but Neall and I certainly did.” And no command or scold could move the animal away from the bathing room door.She had taken the puppy when she left Ahern’s farm last summer, but Merle had never forgotten Ari, the first person who had loved him without reservation.
“Give him time,” Ashk said. “He’s been with you only a few days. He doesn’t trust yet that a closed door doesn’t mean you’ll go away.”
“I know,” Ari said, opening the garden gate. “At least Neall has convinced him that he can’t sleep in the bed with us.”
Ashk smiled. “The next step will be convincing him that he can’t always spend the night in your bedroom.”
Ari blushed. Then she frowned at the empty basket at Morag’s feet. “I came out to help you weed.”
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Morag said as Ari sank to her knees, braced one hand on the ground in order to lean over, and neatly plucked the shoot of grass out of the soil.
“I rested,” Ari said, sounding a bit defensive. She tossed the grass into the basket and busily continued to weed that patch of the garden.
Life can choke out life , Morag thought as she sank to her knees beside Ari and reached to pluck a small plant from the soil.
Ari grabbed Morag’s hand. “That’s a bean plant.” She pointed to a sprout right beside it. “That’s a weed.”
“How can you tell?” Morag muttered. “They look the same.”
“No, they don’t. Their leaves look different.”
Maybe those leaves looked different to Ari, since witches were the Daughters of the Great Mother and drew their power from Her four branches — earth, air, water, and fire — but to Morag, they were all just sprouts of green that made the ground look soft and fuzzy.
“Besides,” Ari said, “I want to do the work now, before I get so fat with the babe I can’t get up off the ground by myself.” She sighed. “Our first harvest here, and I won’t be able to do more than waddle around while others work.”
“It was quite thoughtless of Neall to have his way with you after the Winter Solstice feast and not take into account you might be waddling by the harvest season,” Ashk said dryly.
Morag looked up at
Morag rested her hands on her thighs. “My sister pointed out that there are no forests in Tir Alainn. I told herit was because life and death walk hand in hand there, that it was because forests have shadows and they’re too alive to be perfect.”
Ashk’s gaze returned to Morag. “Then you do understand. Pluck the weeds while they can still be plucked. The grass has its own place to grow. Let it grow there. But keep it out of the garden where it doesn’t belong.”
As they watched each other, a tension grew between them. Then a happy bark made Ashk turn, and the moment was broken.
“Ah,” Ashk said. “Here comes the person who can tell you what is weed and what is not.”
Getting to her feet, Morag saw Ari walking toward them while Merle ran exuberant circles around her. The big animal, half shadow hound, was still young enough to be puppyish in his behavior and had been acting even more so since being reunited with Ari.
When Ari reached one of the gates that opened into the big kitchen garden, she rested a hand on Merle’s head. “Go run and play in the meadow,” she said. “I’ll be right here with Morag and Ashk.”
Merle just looked at her and whined.
“It’s all right,” Ari said. She leaned toward him. “Go chase a bunny.”
With another happy bark, Merle turned and raced across the meadow, a black-streaked, gray shape. Only the tan forelegs gave away the fact that he wasn’t pure shadow hound.
Looking at the two women, Ari smiled ruefully. “When I closed him out of the bathing room last night, he sat at the door and howled.”
“We heard him,” Ashk said dryly. She laughed when Ari’s eyes widened.
“You may not have really heard him,” Morag grumbled, “but Neall and I certainly did.” And no command or scold could move the animal away from the bathing room door.She had taken the puppy when she left Ahern’s farm last summer, but Merle had never forgotten Ari, the first person who had loved him without reservation.
“Give him time,” Ashk said. “He’s been with you only a few days. He doesn’t trust yet that a closed door doesn’t mean you’ll go away.”
“I know,” Ari said, opening the garden gate. “At least Neall has convinced him that he can’t sleep in the bed with us.”
Ashk smiled. “The next step will be convincing him that he can’t always spend the night in your bedroom.”
Ari blushed. Then she frowned at the empty basket at Morag’s feet. “I came out to help you weed.”
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Morag said as Ari sank to her knees, braced one hand on the ground in order to lean over, and neatly plucked the shoot of grass out of the soil.
“I rested,” Ari said, sounding a bit defensive. She tossed the grass into the basket and busily continued to weed that patch of the garden.
Life can choke out life , Morag thought as she sank to her knees beside Ari and reached to pluck a small plant from the soil.
Ari grabbed Morag’s hand. “That’s a bean plant.” She pointed to a sprout right beside it. “That’s a weed.”
“How can you tell?” Morag muttered. “They look the same.”
“No, they don’t. Their leaves look different.”
Maybe those leaves looked different to Ari, since witches were the Daughters of the Great Mother and drew their power from Her four branches — earth, air, water, and fire — but to Morag, they were all just sprouts of green that made the ground look soft and fuzzy.
“Besides,” Ari said, “I want to do the work now, before I get so fat with the babe I can’t get up off the ground by myself.” She sighed. “Our first harvest here, and I won’t be able to do more than waddle around while others work.”
“It was quite thoughtless of Neall to have his way with you after the Winter Solstice feast and not take into account you might be waddling by the harvest season,” Ashk said dryly.
Morag looked up at
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