Dragon's Moon - By Lucy Monroe Page 0,106

to.” And it was the first time Ciara had ever genuinely felt that.

“Then you will. The caves…perhaps only the Éan and the Faol use them now?”

“There is a sacred place I know of that is like that. It has been used as long as anyone can remember. Hot springs bubble up into a large pool in the cavern used for the mating ceremony.”

“That sounds like the caves of which I speak.” The kelle sounded both pleased by Ciara’s intelligence and relieved. “Two days’ journey south and half a day going west from that place will take you to the healing caves.”

“Walking, or running as the wolf?” Ciara asked before trying to determine where the directions the kelle had given indicated.

“Running as a wolf. Walking takes so long,” the kelle said with a puzzled frown. “The wolf can run from dawn to dusk.”

Ciara did some quick thinking. That would be on MacLeod land, but not the sacred caves Talorc had spoken of. “Are there landmarks nearby?”

And would they still be there so many hundreds of years later?

“The healing caves are in a dell with a small river running through it. We called it Kyle Kirksonas.”

Hopefully Mairi would know where the narrow river of the healing place of worship was and what dell it ran through. Perhaps it was still called Kyle Kirksonas by the MacLeod. Place names did not change so quickly in the Highlands.

The kelle’s face twisted in thought. “The entrance to the caves is in the steepest brae, a hillside entirely of stone. It looks like part of the brae, but it is not.”

The stone wall that was not. “How will we find it then?” Ciara asked.

“There is a place on the wall carved with our Chrechte symbol for healing. It is this high and about this large,” the kelle said, making a circle with her hands about as large as a baby’s face and near her eye level. “You must press the center with one of the small children from the Faolchú Chridhe.”

“You mean the stones like the one you wear in your circlet?” Ciara asked.

The kelle touched the tiny emerald dangling in the center of her forehead and smiled. “Yes. One of the children, though the key to our healing caves is bigger.”

It was a good thing there were “children,” as the kelle called them, in the handle of Ciara’s dirk and hilt of her brother’s sword. Hopefully one of them was of the right size to be the key.

An insistent noise buzzed at Ciara’s consciousness and the kelle looked as if she heard it, too. “It is time for you to leave this place and return to your world.”

“You will go back to wherever you were?”

“My spirit is always with God.” The kelle smiled, this one filled with a beautiful peace. “But when I am called to a dream, the form I had upon death is the one that comes.”

“It was an honor to meet you, kelle.”

“And you as well, princess of the Faol. Never doubt, we will meet again.”

Ciara went limp in Eirik’s arms and he grabbed her, allowing the sword to fall to the ground.

The Balmoral picked it up and put it back in the sheath on Eirik’s back. “Is she well?”

“I do not know.” And the possibility that she was not caused feelings inside Eirik that he was far from accustomed to experiencing.

Like terror.

Her breathing had grown increasingly shallow while she was in her vision, her color leaching from her skin until Ciara looked near death. If it were not for the faint but steady beat of her heart, he would be lost. As it was, he wanted to rip someone’s head off, preferably any Faol who still followed Fearghall, since the one responsible for the loss of the Faolchú Chridhe to the wolves was far beyond Eirik’s reach.

“She’ll be fine. The lass just needs a bit of rest,” Boisin assured them.

“You have seen this before?” Eirik demanded.

“Oh, aye…the more powerful and prolonged the vision, the more it will take out of you. But a little sleep and some food and she’ll be back to rights again.”

Eirik swept his wife into his arms. “Where is the healing chamber?”

He would leave the mating chamber for Lais and Mairi. Eirik wasn’t about to attempt consummating their own marriage, until Ciara was fully recovered.

“There is no chamber for healing in these caves,” the Balmoral stated. “Without a healer like Lais in our clan, or the sacred stone to draw upon, we are reliant on our Chrechte

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