Page 28 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
My eyes teared, and Briar cursed. He took me by my arms, gentle as ever, and whispered, “The Danann elders have convened to discuss matters pertaining to your father. My father has been dragging me along, sworn me to secrecy. I wish I could say more, Amy, but I can’t.”
Not comforting, dude!
I choked back a sob. “So, theydothink—?”
“It doesn’t matter what anyone in there thinks. None of them went to medical school. From what I know, none of your father’s actual doctors have told him to get his affairs in order.”
That’s more like it.
Breathing again, I collapsed into his body, needing solace.
He hugged me, rubbing my back in circles. “Sorry that I can’t say more. I promise if any decisions like that need making, we’ll consult you first.” His lips skimmed my cheek. “I’ll make sure.”
Praising Danu for him, for how he had my back, I wiped my tears and squeezed him—a bit tighter than he was squeezing me. “Thank you.”
It never occurred to me that Briar might be lying.
Seven
Duskdescending,Iemergedfrom my Beltane festival tent. Roasting meat and lighter fluid perfumed the breeze, pigs rotated on spits, and pyres flamed in a wide circle on Avalon Green. The maypole stood at its center, wreathed in ivy glory, lustrous ribbons floating from its finial. Traditional Celtic music played, the beat of the bodhran pumping in my blood. Mantled in flora, a band performed on a festooned stage near where the gigantic Beltane cauldron hung, fire lapping at its cast iron belly. Inside, a cider potent enough to souse an army brewed.
Alcohol hadn’t yet dulled people’s awareness when I stepped into the fading sun. No matter what they were doing, or to whom they were speaking, every reveler paused to scrutinize me. As far as I saw, however, I should’ve faded into the background.
The other women wore dresses much scantier than mine, several half naked, their breasts almost completely exposed. Such immodesty made me downright conspicuous. My dress was the only one whose hem met the ground, the only one not transparent in firelight. I wrung my hands, my crown of pearls and tulips itching.
“Look at you.” Briar grinned beneath a birch tree, eyes gleaming. Leafy shadows dappled his toned, naked torso, his bottom half clothed in a pair of black silk shorts. He wore what every other man at the festival wore, but Briar looked damn extraordinary.
Which made me want to slither under a rock like a snail.
I hunched, realizing he’d already seen my open back, and tucked a tress defying my Heidi braid behind my ear. My bare toes gripped the turf.
Briar approached, stroking my cheek like an eggshell. He winked at me. “Ready to party tonight, Larkspur?”
I’m readier to swan dive onto one of the pyres.
I managed half a smile. “Not really.”
Briar grasped my hand, surveying the green. “If I’m being honest, I’m a little nervous about tonight too. None of us youngbloods knows what to expect. Will you stick by me? Keep me company? Keep me calm?”
I doubted he thought himself the one in need of comfort. “Of course,” I agreed anyway.
“Thank you.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my first Beltane with.”
Breathless, I whispered, “Me either,” meaning it.
Briar led me around the green, the twilight overhead becoming stelliferous and sparkling. We chatted with many boisterous Dananns. Some we’d known for ages. Others were visiting from sister circles, there for networking and merriment. Though they gawked at first, the newcomers delighted at meeting me. Some seemed weirdly honored. When a tubby stranger introduced himself as Bay Veratrum, Herald of the Marsh, and bowed to me like a serf before his betters, Briar cleared his throat and steered me clear of the throng.
“What the hell was that?” I gasped as we walked hand in hand toward the buffet, where hungry guests heaped plates with traditional Danann food, flavored like nothing else.
“No idea.” Briar clicked his tongue. “I think Mr. Veratrum pregamed before he got here.”
I giggled.
Briar and I ate together at a picnic table, gluttonous as pigs. Somewhere amid scarfing, Briar turned to me, eyes like sugar glaze, and asked, “Ever have one of these?” He held up a deep-purple berry.
Licking sauce-stained lips, I reached for it,needingto taste it.
“Uh, uh,” Briar teased, drawing back, firelight a corona around him. “Answer the question first.”
