They both went silent, contemplating what this slight difference could mean.
“Such would imply there is a sword out there somewhere that has a griffin as its center,” he said in a tone she had never before heard from the dragon shifter…awe.
“A myth…”
The look Eirik gave her was wry. “Like the Éan and the true conriocht.”
“But where are the cat shifters then, the Paindeal?”
Eirik looked thoughtful. “Some of the most ancient stories told of a bridge of land that used to connect Scotland to the land of the Norse. The Chrechte had supposedly traveled over these bridges of land before they fell into the sea and the only way to the land of the Vikings was by water because even an eagle cannot fly that far.”
She thought maybe a dragon might be able to, though she did not say it. “You think the Paindeal are still in those lands?”
“Perhaps. Mayhap we will answer that question after we find the wolves’ sacred stone.”
Deciding the time for secrets was past, there was too much at stake, Ciara said, “I think I saw the woman that hid the Faolchú Chridhe.”
“In your vision.”
“Yes. She was in a cave. It was lit with torches, there were drawings carved into the wall, but I could not make them out in the meager light.” And her attention had been fixed on the woman.
Ciara only remembered the drawings as an impression on the peripheral of her sight.
“Was it the cavern of your other dreams?”
“No, but maybe it’s part of the cave system that leads to it.”
“So, you think the stone was hidden in a cave?”
“Yes, a cavern, deep in the ground. It glows with a strange green light.” Would Eirik believe her any more fully than Galen, or would he too question the certainty she woke from her dreams with?
“I do not spend much time in caves when my dragon is not busy protecting the dreams of seers who are tormented by their gift. Are there known caverns like this?”
“There may be. We should ask our lair…um, my father. If he does not know, someone among the Balmoral may.”
“It is a sound plan.”
For no reason she could discern, she blushed with pleasure under his approval. Eirik’s view of her did not matter. She could not allow it to matter.
Chapter 13
Nothing weighs on us so heavily as a secret.
—JEAN DE LA FONTAINE
“We need to speak to the Sinclair immediately.” Eirik sheathed his sword. “We have changed our plans for travel to Balmoral Island as well.”
“We are going to join Lais and Mairi on the boat crossing?” Ciara asked hopefully.
Eirik shook his head. “You and I will ride with them until we are far enough away from the keep and crofter’s huts not to risk having my dragon seen. Then I will shift and take you to the island. Fidaich and Canaul will stay with the horses while we are on the island.”
“They are only boys.”
“Old enough to guard horses.”
“What if Mairi’s father has sent soldiers to search for her? The boys would be no match for a full-grown Chrechte warrior. Besides, we are searching for the Faolchú Chridhe, surely Faol soldiers should accompany us.”
“You do not trust me to protect you without warriors of the Faol to help?”
She should say no, remind him that he had already proven himself to show no pity toward wolves, but she couldn’t. No matter what she should feel toward the prince of the Éan, Ciara could not shake the certainty that her life was safe with him. And she could hardly claim a dragon was not up to the task of protecting her regardless.
“You are far too busy helping your people settle into the clan to take on this quest,” she said, trying another tack and hoping to avoid the question of trust altogether.
She also wished she’d thought of this argument earlier during their discussion with everyone. It might have swayed her father, but then again…probably not.
No more than she expected it to sway the Éan prince. If he had already decided his people could be trusted under her father’s leadership, Eirik was not going to balk at leaving them to do his own assigned duty for the clan.
“The plans for the search coincide with my need to check on the well-being of the rest of the Éan among the Balmoral and Donegal clans.”
“There are more Éan?” she asked. When he’d mentioned his grandmother had gone to live with the Donegals, Ciara had thought she was the only one.