“My lady—”

“I want you there. I want everyone there. Blair, please come in.” She stepped back to allow Blair inside, then shut the door in Dervil’s face.

“You sure come over all royal.”

“I know it must seem that way.” Moira rubbed a hand up and down Blair’s arm before she turned to walk farther into the room. “But I’m the same.”

She might have been wearing what Blair considered Moira’s training gear—the simple tunic, pants and sturdy boots—but there was something different about her.

The room might have added to it. It was, Blair assumed, a kind of sitting room, and plush for all that. Cushions of richly worked tapestries, velvet drapes, the lovely little marble hearth with its turf fire simmering all spoke of position.

“I asked you here to tell you how the demonstration will be done.”

“To tell me,” Blair repeated.

“I don’t imagine you’ll like what I’ve chosen to do, but the decision is made. There’s no other way for me.”

“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve chosen to do, then I’ll tell you if I like it or not.”

She didn’t. And she argued. She threatened and she cursed. But Moira remained both implacable and immovable.

“What have the others said about this?” Blair demanded.

“I haven’t told them. I’ve told you.” Thinking they could both use it, Moira poured them each a glass of wine. “Put yourself in my position, please. These are the monsters who killed my mother. They murdered the queen of Geall.”

“And the idea was—is—to show people they exist. What they are, how they need to be fought and destroyed.”

“Aye, that’s an essential point.” Moira sat a moment, to sip wine, to settle. All through the worries of the night, the duties of the day, she’d been gathering herself for what was to come. “In a few days, I’ll go to the stone. Again, before the people of Geall who’ve gathered there, I’ll take hold of the sword. If I lift it, I will be queen. And as queen I’ll lead my people into war—the first war in Geall. Can I send them into battle, can I send them to their deaths when I’m unproven?”

“Moira, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“Not to you, but to others. And to myself—do you understand? I won’t take up sword and crown until I feel worthy of both.”

“From where I’m standing you are. I wouldn’t tell you that if I thought otherwise.”

“You wouldn’t, no. That’s why I asked for you, and not one of the others. You’ll speak to me plainly, and I can speak plainly to you. It matters that you think I’m ready for the sword and the crown. It matters a great deal. But I have to feel it, don’t you see?”

“Yeah. Shit.” Because she did see, Blair raked her hands through her hair. “Yeah.”

“Blair, I’m afraid of what’s been asked of me. Of what I need to do, of what’s to come. I’m asking you to help me do this thing tonight, as a friend, a fellow warrior, and as a woman who knows how cold the path of destiny can be.”

“And if I refuse, you’ll do it anyway.”

“Of course.” Now a glimmer of a smile. “But I’d feel stronger and surer with your understanding.”

“I do understand. I don’t have to like it, but I can understand.”

Moira set her wine aside, got to her feet to take Blair’s hand. “That’s enough.”

T hey’d made it into a kind of party, Blair thought. Torches blazed, lining the field of play. Flames rose up toward the sky where the nearly full ball of moon beamed like a spotlight.

People crammed into the stands, jostled for position behind wooden barriers. They’d brought children, she noted, right down to babies—and the mood was festive.

She was armed—sword, stake, crossbow—and heard the murmurs as she passed through on her way to the royal box.

She slipped in next to Glenna.

“So what do you think the insurance would go for on a gig like this? Fire, wood, all this flammable clothing.”

Glenna shook her head as she scanned the crowd. “They don’t understand it. They’re like fans waiting for the concert to begin. For God’s sake, Blair, there are vendors selling meat pies.”

“Never underestimate the power of free enterprise.”

“I tried to get to Moira before we were brought here. We don’t even know the plan.”

“I do. And you’re not going to like it.” Before she could elaborate, there was a blare of trumpets. The royal family came into the box. “Just don’t blame me,” Blair said over the cheers of the crowd.

Riddock stepped forward, raising his hands to quiet the crowd. “People of Geall, you are here to welcome home Her Highness, the princess Moira. To give thanks for her safe return to us, and that of Larkin, lord of MacDara.”

There were more cheers as Moira and Larkin stepped up to stand on either side of Riddock. Larkin shot Blair a quick, cocky grin.

He doesn’t know, she thought, and felt her stomach twist.

“You are here to welcome the valiant men and women who accompanied them to Geall. The sorcerer Hoyt of the family Mac Cionaoith. His lady Glenna, cailleach dearg. The lady Blair, gaiscioch dorcha. Cian, of the Mac Cionaoith, and brother to the sorcerer. They are welcome to our land, to our home, to our hearts.”

The cheers rolled. Give them a few hundred years, Blair thought, and there’d be little witch and wizard action figures. If the world survived that long.

“People of Geall! We have known a dark time, one of heartbreak and of fear. Our beloved queen was cruelly taken from us. Murdered by what are not men, but beasts. On this night, on this ground, you will see what has taken your queen. They are brought here by order of her Royal Highness, and through the valor of Lord Larkin, the lady Blair and Cian of the Mac Cionaoith.”

Riddock stepped back, and by the way his jaw tightened, Blair thought he knew the drill—and wasn’t happy about it.

Moira moved forward, waited for the crowd to subside. “People of Geall, I have come home to you, but not to bring you joy. I come to bring you war. I have been charged by the goddess Morrigan herself to fight what would destroy our world, the world of my friends, all the worlds of humankind. I am charged, with these five whom I trust with my life, with my land, with the crown I may one day bear if the gods deem it, to lead you into this battle.”