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thing . Cariad he was , and Ceithin had been born the bastard son of parents who ' d never joined with the full ritual of Council ordained marriage ; he had heard worse. The population of this world had little time for the old ways or the travelers that banded together and held traditions close. Darach damn well was coming with him, because if he knew Kian, then he might know something about Trystyn ; and that was information Ceithin was determined to get out of him.
    "Yes. You are." A simple statement, and one Darach had better listen to and abide by.
    "No, I'm not. You will stand here and talk to me—"
    Ceithin stepped into Darach's space, drawing to his full height, easily half a head taller than Darach, and gripped hard into the soft silky material of Darach's coat.
    "You helped a Cariad escape from the Council. You crossed Guardian to do so. Clearly, you're a Cariad sympathizer. Your sentence is instant death or, worse, removal of Fire and a death so slow it will drive you insane with grief. You want to stay to talk, then you stay to die. We run. Now."
    "I didn't have anything to do with… I didn't help… I know it looks bad, but when I explain."
    "Explain what exactly."
    "That I just wanted to ask… to find out…"
    Obviously, facing the Council and Guardian was a fate better than staying with Ceithin. He leaned in an extra inch, schooling his features into a tight, furious mask. "Do. You. Want. To. Die?"
    "You're probably going to kill me anyway, you filthy Cariad!" Darach shouted, pulling back insistently, and Ceithin let him stumble away as he released his grip.
    "Maybe, youngling, maybe. But at least I have honor and would do it quickly." He left it at that and turned on his heel, bringing his attention back to the task in hand.
    He smirked to himself when Darach followed him after a few seconds, grumbling something in Ancient under his breath. It was a surprise to hear Ancient syllables from someone who wasn't a Cariad. He didn't question it. There would be time for questions later, when the immediate need to escape had passed.
    Sooner than he expected, they stood outside a tavern with smoke-soiled, dirty windows. He considered, and summarily dismissed, the vehicles lined up in dust-covered rows. The oil-run monstrosities had no place in the Cariad world. Then he switched his attention to the small group of horses tethered along a metal bar to one side and out of the main view. He was never so happy that some in the City held to the old ways even as toxic machines started to make their presence known. Horses would be a more efficient and less traceable way of getting deep into the forests around the fortress. Cautiously, he approached them, keeping himself out of sight. Laying a hand on the nearest, he gestured for Darach to stop. Darach stumbled clumsily into him.
    " A wnewch chi ein cario fy mrodyr ? " T he horse, a magnificent gelding with a sable coat, bl a ck mane , and eyes of dark brown lowered its head and nuzzled his hand.
    "You talk to horses? You asked if they would carry us?"
    Darach sounded surprised, and Ceithin was in no state of mind to explain or comment on Darach's command of the old language. He allowed a little of his Fire to travel to his fingers, the crimson disappearing into the horse's soft coat as he touched the mare standing next to the gelding, and then untied both from the rail.
    "Come here."
    To give him his due, Darach at least tried to climb up, until finally with a little help he dismissed with a sneer, he was seated in the saddle. He looked as awkward as Trystyn had when he was a babe, hanging off to one side, and the thought stayed with Ceithin even as he deftly climbed his own mount. With a gentle nudge of his heels, they left the inn and moved on into the pathways in the woods beyond. The mare, clearly sensing Darach's hesitation, skittered to one side, then finally pulled in next to the gelding and broke into the same canter Ceithin had encouraged. People underestimated