Origins 11 by Cate Tiernan

Author:Cate Tiernan [Tiernan, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The following day I set off in a horse-drawn cart toward Diarmuid's village of Lillipool. Falkner had managed to

secure the cart and horse from his father's shop, and Kyra sat between us, warning of the punishment the three

of us would face if our parents found out the true reason for our visit to Lillipool. She could be so mettlesome at

times, though I did have her to thank for arranging for the cart. In my current condition, I was not sure I could

walk all the way to Lillipool without incident.

Lillipool was considered to be a Christian village, though for some time our coven had known that the Vykrothes

had a circle nearby and Leapvaughn sheepherders lived in cottages on its outskirts. There was the usual small

church, which I assumed Diarmuid's clan attended to avoid persecution as witches. A mill cranked at the edge of

the village. We passed by it, then came upon the village center. In Lillipool's small, dusty square, peddlers

displayed their wares amid clouds of blowing dirt. No one knew why grass refused to grow on the village green

here, but my mother had once told me that although Leapvaughns have a gift for sales and carpentry, they were

known to be barren farmers.

Falkner guided the wagon through the lane, stopping for passing villagers who paid us little mind. He brought

the cart over to a small wagon at the end of the square, its side panel painted Ye Finest Wood Crafters. "I've got

to pick up a table for Da," he said. " 'Twill be a short while, if you want to walk around."

He helped us down from the cart, and we dusted our skirts and stepped forward gingerly, our arms linked.

"I hope he is here," I said. "His father likes him to tend the sheep, but Diarmuid prefers to spend his time in the village and at market."

Kyra nodded, averting her eyes as a tin peddler leered at her. " 'Tis an odd village," she said. "Like a desert in the Highlands."

As we walked past a tinker's wagon, a cart laden with fruits, and another with an array of bonnets, I kept

searching for Diarmuid. I spotted a lad who walked with the same gait and another who seemed to share his

broad smile, but I did not see my love.

When we reached the end of the row of carts, I spied a head of gingery brown hair. It was feathered back from his

face, revealing startling blue eyes and a smile that warmed my heart.

Diarmuid.

"There he is!" I gasped.

Kyra squeezed my arm. "You found him."

But he was not alone. A tall, swanlike girl with pale yellow hair walked beside him.

"Who is she?" Kyra muttered.

"I don't know. Perhaps a friend."

Kyra looked back toward the cart. "I'll go see if Falkner can find out."

I barely noticed that she had left my side. My Diarmuid was within reach, so close I could run into his arms, yet

something kept me there, my feet mired to the ground. Who was the girl? I watched in horror as she said

something to him, making him laugh.

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