Free The Dark Mirror by Juliet Marillier

talk to me before he does anything else. We need a wet-nurse; the longer we leave it, the more urgent it gets. Sounds like this Brenna might be just what we want.”
    “She’d have to be crazy,” mutteredMara. “Who’d offer to nurse one of
them?
” But it seemed to Bridei her words were only half meant, otherwise why would she be trying so hard to get the baby to suck, and nodding encouragement at each successful swallow? The little basket stood empty by thehearth, the key well hidden in its network of tangled foliage. It was true, what Broichan had told him. Sometimes simple hearth magic is thestrongest of all.
    The day seemed very long. Cinioch snatched a quick breakfast and headed off down the lake. The baby was quiet at first, but later she cried and cried until she had no strength left for it. She would not take the honey water. Bridei took his turn at holding her and patting her. She seemed to get heavier as the day went on. Her little, hiccupping wails made him want to cry, too,but he did not.
    In the early evening, Cinioch came home with a pale-faced young woman who was heavily shawled against the chill outside. Her features were pinched with cold, her nose and eyes were red and she was shivering under her layers of clothing. Nonetheless, as soon as she spotted the infant in Ferat’s arms, it was off with cloak and shawl, and three steps across the floor to gather thechild to her breast.
    “Ah, poor mite, poor bairn,” Brenna crooned, and the babe hiccupped weakly in response. “I’ll take her off to a quiet corner, if you’ll show me where,” the young woman added. “Wee thing’s starving, but we’ll soon put that to rights.” And she did; while Bridei was bid to stay in the kitchen when the women went through by the hall fire, he could hear the baby’s voice subsidethrough thin wails to a gasping, snuffling, desperate sort of sound to blissful silence. He let out his breath in a great sigh; Ferat, stirring up the soup, was nodding to himself in a satisfied way.
    “We’d best get a joint of mutton on the spit,” the cook said. “When a woman’s in milk she eats like a horse. Your wee one’ll do just fine now, lad, see if she doesn’t.”

    IN THE WINTER woods outside Broichan’s house, two presences hovered as the short day drew to its close.
    “It’s done,” said the first. “He’s taken her in, and nobody’s put her back out again. And the crying’s over. She’s got a big voice for such a scrap of a thing.”
    “I won the wager,” said the other. “I told you they’d keep her.”
    “Bridei’s doing, no doubt. For one of the human kind, that child’scanny beyond his years. A wee charm the druid taught him, no doubt . . . They’d never have held on to her otherwise. One look at her must have told them she’s ours.”
    The other glanced across. “In a way she is. In a way she isn’t. Now we’ve discharged our duty to the Shining One, and that’s an end of it.”
    The first being gave a peal of tinkling laughter. “Hardly! This is just the beginning. Thetwo of them have a long road ahead of them, long and hard. And we’ll be there every step of the way. We all want the same ending for this, even the druid. Of course, the manner of it may come as a surprise to him.”
    “Come, let’s for home. That was a long night. I tire of these human folk. They can be so foolish; so slow to comprehend.”
    “The longest night,” the first being said gravely. “Nightof the full moon; night of change; the start of a great journey.”
    “Bridei’s journey”
    “His, and hers, and all of ours. We walk forward to a new age, no less. The feet that make the pathway are small. Let us hope they do not falter. Let us hope they do not fail.”

    THE MAGIC SEEMED to be holding. Brenna settled into the householdas if she belonged there. She was very quiet and always had a sad look in her eyes, not surprising for a widow only nineteen years of age who had just lost her firstborn. Mara