said in his gruff voice. “We all believe you, Ciara.”
She nodded, but her gaze was far away. “I dreamed of my father’s death, and then my mothers. Hers years before it happened, and ’twas so bloody I dismissed the dream as nightmare. I wasn’t prepared.” Her voice had turned hollow. “I still see her in dreams.”
“Oh, Ciara.” Abigail looked like she wanted to hug the younger woman, but she must have seen what Eirik did.
Ciara was barely holding her emotions in check and it didn’t take a Chrechte’s senses to discern that.
Ciara began to speak again, her tone void of the emotion swirling in her emerald eyes. “I began dreaming of the Faolchú Chridhe when I was barely out of leading strings. I did not know what it was at first, but then I told Galen about my dreams. I thought he would make fun of me.”
“He didn’t,” Eirik interjected with certainty.
She looked up at him briefly and shook her head. “He believed my dreams were prophetic, that I would lead him to the wolves’ sacred stone. At first, he made it a game, taking me into the forest to search. Those were such happy days, but then our da died and Galen changed.”
“It was no game for him.” And never had been, of that Eirik was certain. Particularly in light of the fact that if his sister was the keeper of the stone as her new friend Mairi claimed, Galen would have had the bloodline to call on the power of the stone as well.
“Or the friends who shared his hatred of the Éan.” His voice came out harsher than he meant it to be, but the thought of one such as her brother having the power of a Chrechte’s sacred stone was chilling.
“No. It was no game for them. That’s what we were doing that awful day, when Luag smelled ravens and decided to go hunting instead of searching for a myth. Galen had started bringing his friend along on our searches, but neither of them listened to me about where to look. They were so convinced they knew the right of things.”
“And yet they were completely deceived,” Lais said.
Ciara took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes.”
“Luag did not believe in your dreams.” Eirik was certain the Donegal wolf would never have gone hunting the Éan children if he had. The Faolchú Chridhe would have been far too important a find.
“Not like Galen did, no.” She bit her lip again and Eirik’s dragon rumbled in his chest. “He wanted to believe he could have the power of the stone.”
“If he was your brother, he would have been able to call it forth,” Mairi said with utter conviction.
Ciara did not reply, but Eirik nodded his agreement. The Sinclair did not appear happy at that possibility.
Guaire asked, “You never found signs of the stone?”
He’d been silent thus far, but Eirik could see the seneschal taking things in and weighing their import. Eirik had noticed the human doing so before, when working with Eirik and the laird to settle the Éan among the clan.
When he made an observation, it was always on target and of benefit. Talorc was lucky to have such a seneschal.
“No,” Ciara answered. “No sign at all.”
But still she believed the Faolchú Chridhe was out there to be found. Her connection to it had to be very strong.
“And you are still dreaming about it?” Guaire asked.
“Yes.”
Guaire nodded. “Clearly, you must heed these dreams.”
Niall nodded his agreement. The Sinclair scowled and Eirik knew it bothered him that his daughter had been plagued by something he could not fix, regardless of his strength and position.
“If for no other reason than that until you do, you will continue to lose sleep,” Abigail said with a look of motherly concern to Ciara.
Eirik moved his hand from her shoulder to the nape of Ciara’s neck, giving a squeeze to let her know she was not alone. He did not question the impulse. For now he would follow the instincts of his beast.
“The dreams have grown urgent. The stone calls to me now, even when I am awake.” She looked up at Eirik, her green gaze haunted, before turning her attention to her adopted father. “I cannot sleep. I cannot eat. The Faolchú Chridhe must be found.”
“Aye.” There was a wealth of determination and the confidence of a clan chief in that single word.
Ciara released a soft sigh of relief. No matter that the secrets she kept might imply otherwise, she trusted