strong suggestion during their conversation. He was taking Fallon on a date.
* * *
For two brisk, bright hours past dawn, Fallon rode the woods with Duncan. The night’s snowfall left a fresh, fluffy six inches over the forest floor. The air smelled of it, of pine and purity, as they followed the tracks of a wild boar.
Taibhse glided, white wings spread, through trees with branches laden with snow and glinting spears of ice while Faol Ban slipped in and out of sun and shadows.
Here, the woods pulsed with life. The heartbeats of trees slow and steady in their winter rest, the quick beat of birds on the wing, of animals small and large, the bright pulse of pixies dancing through the ice and snow.
Light and life here, Fallon thought, unlike the dark and death in the wood on MacLeod land.
They didn’t talk of the dead wood, of war or ghosts, of tactics or strategies, but argued books and DVDs, exchanged bits of gossip. It occurred to her they’d never just ridden through the woods, with a hunt more of an excuse to be together than a real purpose. They’d rarely talked of inconsequential things or explored each other’s thoughts on them.
People had done just this once—maybe not with sword and bow—but they’d spent time talking about so many things that didn’t lead to life or death. Now, when war drums beat constant, taking an hour or two for only that became precious.
She’d remember it.
Because she would, she reached over, drew him closer, and kissed him with the owl soaring overhead, and the sun streaming onto untrampled snow. He got a better grip, added some punch to the kiss—oh yes, she’d remember it.
Then he eased back, put his fingers to his lips.
She caught the scent, too, and waited while he drew an arrow from the quiver on his back. The boar nosed through the trees. His bad luck, Fallon supposed, that the wind carried their scent away from him.
Duncan loosed the arrow, took it down, shot Fallon a quick grin. “That ought to pay for breakfast.”
“And then some.”
They took the boar to the community kitchen, where Duncan bartered for breakfast, some dry goods, and a portion of the meat. When they settled down to eat, she noticed a couple of those injured, treated, and not back to full duty sharing a meal along with a handful of recent rescues. It reminded her to go by the clinic and check on Lucy and Johnny before she left town.
Fred popped in, a rainbow-colored cap on her explosion of red hair, her youngest on her hip.
“Hi. Can I sit a minute?”
Duncan patted a chair. “You want some breakfast? I’ve got a little credit left.”
“No, thanks.” With the ease of experience, she stripped off the toddler’s coat and cap as she talked. “I just dropped the kids off at school, and Dillon at the playground. The preschoolers are building snowpeople.”
She set Willow down, unearthed some wooden blocks from an enormous bag. “Build us a castle, cutie. Your dad made her those blocks for Christmas,” she said to Fallon. “She’s crazy for them. He and Eddie are working on the tractor—again. The alchemists are working on the corn fuel, and they think it’ll work. Anyway.”
She blew out a breath, side-eyed to make sure Willow remained engaged with her architecture. “I had coffee with your mom, Fallon. She caught me up. I haven’t talked to Eddie yet, but anything that has to do with Allegra, he’ll want to be part of it.”
“From what we learned, she and Petra only go there once a year, so we’ve missed them. And that’s the first substantiated sighting we’ve had in over a year.”
“They’re not done—and I don’t mean just with the awful things they’re doing in Scotland. I know Arlys is on her way to Montreal, but when she gets back, I think she and Chuck should, I don’t know, put out an alert. Allegra and Eric worked with the PWs on the first attack on New Hope. They may be with them now, or still.”
“We’ll find them, Fred,” Duncan assured her with a hard gleam in his eyes that spoke of vengeance.
“They’ll come after you. You, Tonia, Fallon, Lana, especially. They want us all, but especially you.”
“And that’s to our advantage.” Fallon finished her eggs. “Neither of them are what you’d call cool heads, and we will be. Neither of them are quite sane, and we are.”
“I believe in you, and I believe the good always beats back the