Page 100 of The Faerie Handmaid

His master said, “The boy’s right. Come, Idhri. We’ll go directly.”

They were on their way out when Idhri glanced back at Emma, who stood uncertainly beside the table where the remains of her lovely dinner were scattered. “I don’t want you to worry,” Idhri said. “But I have to do this.”

She managed a small smile. “I suppose you do.”

He grinned back. “I’m Braithe’s champion,” he said.

“Aye, I see that,” she said. “Well done, lad. See you come back safe. And soon!”

“Promise,” he said, then dashed through the yard to give Braithe the news.

When they reached the dock of the Isle, the moonless evening had grown so dark that only silhouettes of the trees and the Temple were visible against the blanket of stars. Braithe left Hugh and Idhri to moor the boat and make their way to the boatman’s quarters while she hurried up through the garden, skirting the Temple to go straight to the residence and Priestess Morgana’s chamber.

She didn’t find her there, which gave her a little quiver of unease, but Dafne spotted her in the corridor. She raised the candle in her hand to encircle Braithe in its yellow light. “Braithe,” she said. “We did not expect you.”

“There was no time to send word.”

“I will see to your chamber.”

“If you wish, but I can do it myself. Where is Priestess Morgana?”

“The priestess is with the Blackbird.”

“In the inner room?”

“No, in his bedchamber.”

“Thank you, Dafne.” Braithe turned quickly in that direction, eager to relieve the anxiety that had plagued her all day.

“Braithe, wait.” Dafne came closer, the candle still held high. “The news is not good. It’s not for me to tell you, but—it would be a shock, I fear.”

Braithe froze, and her hand went to her breast. “A shock?” And then, because she could wait no longer, she said, “Is Priestess Morgana—”

“She’s fine,” Dafne said. “It’s the mage.”

“Oh. Oh.” Braithe dropped her hand and let her chin sink toward her chest. “I should have guessed.” She had been worried for Morgana, when it was the Blackbird she should have thought of. “Is he gone?”

“Yes. The priestess found him this morning.”

“I will go to her now, Dafne.”

“Do you need food or drink?”

“Nothing. Thank you.” More slowly now, Braithe moved along the corridor toward the back of the residence, where the Blackbird’s little chamber had always been kept ready for him.

Everything around her was silent. No night birds chittered. No fox barked from the woods. All the Temple would grieve this loss, and Morgana more intensely than anyone. She had been right to come. Morgana should not bear this alone.

She reached the chamber and paused outside the closed door to collect herself before knocking. She was glad to hear how steady Morgana’s voice was when she called, “Come in.”

Braithe opened the door to find the priestess sitting in an uncomfortable chair at the head of the Blackbird’s bed. The only light in the chamber was the starlight falling through a single window. Morgana’s silver hair glowed in the dimness.

Morgana looked up, and when she saw Braithe, she gave a low cry. “I am so glad to see you,” she exclaimed, getting to her feet. She hesitated, but Braithe did not. She stepped forward, her arms out, and folded Morgana in an embrace. Morgana was stiff at first but soon softened in her arms. She whispered, “The Lady must have sent you to me, brat.”

“That must be it,” Braithe said. “I knew I needed to come.”

They pulled apart, and Morgana touched Braithe’s cheek with her fingers before the two of them turned to gaze down at the Blackbird’s still form. Morgana said, “He knew. He had stopped speaking. Stopped eating.”

“We will all miss him,” Braithe said. “But you most of all.”