The Well of Shades by Juliet Marillier

for kingship later. But no argument had ever convinced him that what he’d done was right. It was a dilemma; those thoughts made him disloyal to the gods, and he had been trained since childhood to believe such loyalty the foundation of a man’s existence. He feared the Nameless God above all. He feared retribution would strike out of the blue and he recognized how it mightbe. To punish him, the god would strike not at Bridei himself, but at Tuala, at Derelei, at the infant yet unborn, perhaps robbing it of life before it saw its first sunrise. Every day that he managed to keep them safe, Bridei sent a prayer of gratitude to those gods he knew were more favorably disposed toward him: the Flamekeeper, guardian of the brave and honorable, and the Shining One, who hadlong given her blessing to him and to Tuala.
    He hoped they were all listening tonight. He hopedthey would guide his decision. He knew what was right. He knew also that to a great many of his people his choice would seem weak, out of keeping with his reputation as the fearless leader who had so miraculously won back the lost lands of Dalriada not quite six years into his reign. Without his druid’ssupport, without the backing of influential chieftains such as Carnach, it would be difficult to convince his people that he must let this opportunity pass him by. He would, perhaps, seem recklessly disobedient to the will of the gods.
    Tonight he would not consider that. The Well of Shades was a place of abject obedience; a place where powerful men bowed low before the god who represented thedarkest part in each of them, a locked and bolted corner of the spirit that housed a base will for destructive power. The noblest and fairest of men felt that darkness stir within them when they knelt by the Well. It was a test to crush the most dauntless of hearts.
    Bridei closed his eyes and began the ritual words.
    I breathe into the dark…

    I N THE FOREST above thedruid’s house at Pitnochie, Ana, princess of the Light Isles, was sitting quietly on a fallen tree, waiting for her betrothed to come back. She was not alone; on a branch nearby a hooded crow perched, watchful, and a scarlet crossbill was investigating the leaf litter at her feet. A very large gray dog stood alert on the other side of the clearing, its formidable size and piercing gaze sufficientto deter the boldest of attackers. Concerned for Ana’s safety, Drustan had acquired Cloud from a farmer farther down the Glen, and the dog had soon fallen victim to her new owner’s seductive charm; she was as much his willing slave now as the birds were. No, thought Ana, slave was the wrong word. Drustan’s creatures were so close to him they seemed to be extensions of his own self; they knew instinctivelywhat he wanted from them and what he could give them. It was a little the same for her. There was an inevitability about her love for him; her whole being had been tied up with his from the moment they first set eyes on each other.
    Drustan was still reluctant to display his unusual abilities before others, even now he and Ana had been staying at Broichan’s house for some time and knew the druid’sloyal retainers were entirely trustworthy. Hence the dog rather than a man-at-arms. Drustan was new to freedom. His last seven years had been spent under lock and key, the occasional times of release a gift from his selfless keeper, Deord. Now he could go out at will and exercise his special skills without fear of punishment, but he was still reluctant to share what he could do with anyone butAna. In the autumn he had borne a message south to King Bridei in the heat of battle. That meant the household at Pitnochie already knew the truth about him, for two men who served as guards here had been present on the battlefield when Drustan had intervened to save the king’s life. Fortunately, Broichan’s folk understood discretion and simply got on with their business. Long years in a druid’shousehold had made them