Free Shadow Spell: Book Two of the Cousins O'Dwyer Trilogy by Nora Roberts

through the trees, the swirl of the oncoming autumn made it all a fine day, in Connor’s opinion, to tromp around the wood following the hawks.
    “Can I come back?” Taylor walked back to the gates of the school with Roibeard on his arm. “I mean, just to see them. They’re really cool, especially Roibeard.”
    “You can, sure. They’d be pleased with a bit of company.”
    “We’ll do it again before we leave,” his father promised.
    “I’d rather do this than the horseback riding.”
    “Oh, you’ll enjoy that as well, I wager.” Connor led them inside at an unhurried pace. “It’s pleasant to walk the woods on the back of a good horse—a different perspective of things. And they’ve fine guides at the stables.”
    “Do you ride?” Tom asked him.
    “I do, yes. Though not as often as I might like. The best, of course, is hawking on horseback.”
    “Oh man! Can I do that?”
    “That’s not in the brochure, Taylor.”
    “It’s true,” Connor said as he gently transferred Roibeard to a perch. “It’s not on the regular menu, so to speak. I’m just going to settle things up with your da if you want to go out, have another look at the hawks.”
    “Yeah, okay.” He studied Roibeard another moment with eyes filled with love. “Thanks. Thanks, Connor. That was awesome.”
    “You’re more than welcome.” He transferred William as Taylor ran out. “I didn’t want to say in front of the boy, but I might be able to arrange for him to have what we’d call a hawk ride. I’d need to check if Meara can lead your family—she’s a hawker as well as one of the guides at the stables. And if you’d be interested.”
    “I haven’t seen Taylor this excited about anything but computer games and music for months. If you can make it happen, that would be great.”
    “I’ll see what I can do, if you give me a minute or two.”
    He leaned a hip on the desk when Tom stepped out, took out his phone. “Ah, Meara, my darling, I’ve a special request.”
    * * *
    A FINE THING IT WAS TO GIVE SOMEONE THE LINGERING glow of memories. Connor did his best to do the same with his final client of the day—but nothing would quite reach the heights of Taylor and his da from America.
    Between his bookings, he took the Peregrines—Apollo included—out beyond the woods, into the open for exercise and hunting. There he could watch the stoop with a kind of wonder that never left him. There he could feel the thrill of that diving speed inside himself.
    As he was a social creature like the Harris’s, he enjoyed doing the hawk walks, but those solo times—only himself and the birds and the air—made up his favorite part of any day.
    Apollo took a crow in midstoop—a perfect strike. They could be fed, Connor thought as he sat on a low stone wall with a bag of crisps and an apple. They could be trained and tended. But they were of the wild, and the wild they needed for their spirit.
    So he sat, content to wait, to watch, while the birds soared, dived, hunted, and prized the peace of a damp afternoon.
    No fog or shadows here, he thought. Not yet. Not ever as he and his circle would find the way to preserve the light.
    And where are you now, Cabhan. Not here, not now, he thought as he scanned the hills, rolling back and away lush and green. Nothing here now but the promise of rain that would come and go and come again.
    He watched Apollo soar again, for the joy of it now, felt his own heart lift. And knew for that moment alone he would face the dark and beat it back.
    Rising, he called the birds back to him, one by one.
    Once all the work was done, he made a final round with the birds and checked on all that needed checking on, then shoved his own glove in his back pocket and locked the gate.
    Then he wandered, at an easy stroll, toward the stables.
    He sensed Roibeard first, pulled out the glove and put it on. Even as he lifted his arm, he sensed Meara.
    The hawk circled once, for the pleasure of it, then swooped down to