A Celtic Witch - By Debora Geary Page 0,77

keep in Realm. Maybe next time we'll win."

She'd heard bits and pieces about the online game. "The Irish have used music to fuel victory for centuries." Although generally not ballads of bumbling knights. "Lost today, did you?"

"Yup. Got our butts kicked by a girl."

He sounded awfully impressed by said girl.

"She had a little help," said a voice dryly from the doorway.

Kevin grinned down at Samantha and said not a word.

There was a story here - she could smell it. Cass set down Rosie, curious. "You won, did you?" Talk of the Realm duels had been leaking through the village.

"Yes." She'd never seen anyone look quite so embarrassed about victory. Marcus nodded at her student. "Kevin acquitted himself quite well, however."

"They were awesome." Kevin grinned - clearly in on the source of the embarrassment. And close enough to manhood to know he wasn't supposed to admit it.

Cass sat back, enjoying the interplay between the man and the boy who clearly worshipped him. Not all knights were as bumbling as they thought. Or as grumpy.

Mischievous eyes turned her way. "Maybe you can write a ballad about it, Cass."

Given the many shades of purple Marcus had suddenly turned, she was sorely tempted.

"Kevin." Something odd tickled Marcus's voice. "Why don't you take your recording and plug it into my computer? You can use the composing program I showed you to save it."

The boy's eyes lit up, but cautiously. "Can I use it after my lesson? I want to try to play the new song."

Cass knew a dismissal when she heard it. "Go ahead, Kev. I'll get some tea and be right here when you get back."

The lure of the electronic gadgets was strong. One last look and the boy flew down the hallway, wires dangling in every direction.

Cass grinned and hoped he remembered to put his boots on before he hit the outdoors. And then she looked back at the man with something to say. "What's on your mind?"

Dark eyes watched her for a while. "He'll be hurt when you leave."

Guilt coated her words and made them harsh. "He'll have had lessons from one of the best fiddlers on the planet."

"I know." He paused, looking at Rosie and Samantha, resting together on the parlor's table. "I didn't know you taught."

"I don't." An automatic answer to a question asked a thousand times. Cass sighed - the automatic didn't seem to be true any longer. "Who I am appears to be a bit of a moving target this week." She avoided looking his direction. "I don't suppose you'd know what that feels like."

The silence lasted a very long time. "I had a twin brother. We spent every waking hour together. He died when I was five."

She nodded slowly. "I've heard."

"Of course you have. There's no privacy here." He didn't sound angry - only resigned. "When he died, he took who I was with him. I spent the next forty-three years imagining myself to be someone else."

Gods. He could strip her heart in a second. No one else could do that.

"I know what it is to stand between worlds. And I did some damage before I figured out where I was headed." The fierceness in his voice had gentled. Some. "Take a care. He's only a boy."

She stared, shaken, hearing words beneath the words, as he backed up into the shadows and was gone.

There was a moment in all music. A pause, right before the finale, that warned the audience to find their balance.

She knew, deep in her gut, that this had been one of those moments.
Chapter 19
Five people had waylaid her on her short trip to Moira's pool. Sophie shook her head as she stepped through the back gate. Things were on the move in Fisher's Cove, and a lot of people were worried about a certain Irish fiddler.

Starting with a wise boy holding his beloved violin - Kevin had knocked on her door at the crack of dawn. She'd barely sent him back home when Moira had shown up, bearing breakfast scones and concerns of her own.

And Aaron had flagged her down from the inn's back porch, perturbed about his favorite guest.

Sophie slipped through the flower beds, easily imagining the wild beauty they would become in spring. And saw Cass, sitting in the warm water, her head tilted back against a handy rock.

She debated - and then left her robe at the edge of the pool. Cass wasn't going to find privacy today, not with so many worried about her.

Fisher's Cove was taking its stand.

Cass