Bishop, Anne - Tir Alainn 3 - The House of Gaian

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

It began as a witch-hunt. But the Master Inquisitor’s plans to eliminate all

traces of female power in the world have expanded to crushing the Sylvalan

barons who oppose him—and to destroying the wellspring of magic in the

Mother’s Hills.

Faced with this evil, humans, witches, and the Fae become uneasy allies.

But even together, they aren’t strong enough to stand against the armies the

Inquisitors are gathering. So they look for help from their last possible ally.

The House of Gaian. The reclusive witches who rule the Mother’s Hills. The

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

witches powerful enough to create a world—or to destroy one...

And the witches’ long-held creed “Do no harm” is about to give way to a

more important one: Survive.

Also by Anne Bishop

The Black Jewels series

Daughter of the Blood

Heir to the Shadows

Queen of the Darkness

The Invisible Ring

The Tir Alainn series

Pillars of the World

Shadows and Light

THE HOUSE OF GAIAN

Anne Bishop

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

A ROC BOOK

ROC

Published by New American Library, a division of

Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York

10014, U.S.A.

Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England

Penguin Books Australia Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria

3124, Australia

Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcom Avenue, Toronto, Ontario, Canada

M4V 3B2

Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, Cnr Rosedale and Airborne Roads, Albany,

Auckland 1310, New Zealand

Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL,

England

First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library, a division of

Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

First Printing, October 2003

10 987654321

Cover art by Duane Myers

REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA

Printed in the United States of America

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this

publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval

system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,

mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written

permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any 
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, 
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
BOOKS ARE AVAILABLE AT QUANTITY DISCOUNTS WHEN USED 
TO PROMOTE PRODUCTS OR SERVICES. FOR INFORMATION 
PLEASE WRITE TO PREMIUM MARKETING DIVISION, PENGUIN 
GROUP (USA) INC., 371 HUDSON STREET, NEW YORK, NEW YORK 
10014.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this 
book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the 
publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment 
for this “stripped book.”
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via 
any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and 
punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and 
do not participate in a encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. 
Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
CONTENTS
1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9 
10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19 
20  21  22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29 
30  31  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39 
40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48  49 
50  51  52  53  54  55 
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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

For Jennifer Jackson

and Laura Anne Gilman

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My thanks to Blair Boone for continuing to be my first reader; Kandra and

Debra Dixon for being beta readers; Nadine Fallacaro for information about

things medical; Kristen Britain, Pat York, Paul Butler, Jim Hetley, Katherine

Lawrence, Uriel, and Lisa Spangenberg for their thoughts and suggestions

about weapons; and Pat and Bill Feidner for their continued support and

encouragement.

Chapter 1

waning moon

Ashk, Bretonwood’s Lady of the Woods, wandered the familiar woodland

trails of her Clan’s Old Place. Neall, distant kin to her despite his human

face, walked beside her. She saw questions in his blue eyes, but he kept the

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

silence she’d held since she came to his cottage early that morning and asked

him to accompany her.

These trails knew her tread, both her human feet and the pads of the shadow

hound that was her other form. And she knew the trails. She didn’t want to

leave Bretonwood, but she had to, had to keep her heart and mind on the task

ahead. Whether or not she could do that depended on the young man who

walked beside her.

At the end of the trail, she hesitated a moment before walking into the sunlit

meadow. A favorite place. A special place where her grandfather had taken

her to play and to learn to be a Lady of the Woods—and, later, although she

wasn’t aware of it at the time, to be the Green Lord... and the Hunter. He

was buried in that meadow, right where he’d fallen after her arrow pierced

his heart. A swift death that honored the old Lord of the Woods rather than

the lingering, soul-wasting death that the nighthunter bites would have

caused him. The Fae put up no markers like humans did, and Ari, Neall’s

wife and Bretonwood’s witch, had worked her magic with care, so there was

no mound of dirt, no disturbance in the grass and wildflowers. And yet, she

could feel a lingering something when she was close to the spot, something

she recognized as Kernos even though the Gatherer had taken his spirit to

the Shadowed Veil so that he could go on to the Summerland.

What needs to be said and done today... it’s fitting that it’s done here, Ashk

thought. I miss you, Kernos. I miss your laughter and your wisdom.... And I

hope with all that’s in me that I have the strength and courage you believed

me to have.

She walked to the center of the meadow before she set her bow, canteen, and

quiver of arrows on the ground. Her woodland eyes, a brown-flecked green,

scanned the trees as she ruffled her ash-brown hair with her fingers. The

cropped hair felt strange after letting it flow down her back for so many

years, but she couldn’t afford to have anything interfere with the smooth,

swift movement of drawing an arrow from the quiver and nocking it to the

bow. Not where she was going. Not with the enemy she was heading out to

meet. It would be better to die a swift death than to fall into the Inquisitors’

hands.

Neall set his things beside hers as he, too, scanned the trees. “I don’t see any

sign of the nighthunters.”

“There are a few left, but not many,” Ashk replied. “There’s still a feeling of

wrongness in the woods, but it’s fainter now.” She looked at Neall, who was

still crouched beside their weapons. “You feel it, too.”

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

“Yes.”

Ashk nodded. He didn’t understand yet what his being so attuned to the

subtleties of the woods meant, but soon he would.

“Ashk.” Neall rose to his feet. He took a deep breath, puffing his cheeks as

he exhaled. “With everything that needs to be done, do you really think we

should take the time for a lesson?”

For this one, Ashk thought, stepping away from the weapons. Because of

what needs to be done, it’s time for this one.

Neall followed a few steps behind her, his eyes and attention still on the

trees. The nighthunters didn’t like sunlight, and she and Neall were in the

center of the large, sunlit meadow; but even during the daylight hours, the

creatures the Inquisitors had created by twisting magic were a threat in the

shadows of the woods.

He wasn’t paying attention to her because he trusted her.

She turned, said, “Change,” immediately shifted into her other form, and

sprang at him, her fangs bared.

Even a month ago, he would have hesitated for that fatal moment that would

have given her the advantage. Now he shifted in an instant, and the young

stag leaped aside, pivoting as soon as he touched the ground, his head

lowered, the tines of his antlers a weapon against her fangs.

She charged him again and again—and he met her, again and again, never

giving her the opening to leap in and nip him in a place that, in a real attack,

could disable him. He thought like a man, but he’d learned how to use that

stag body that was his other form. Because he thought like a man, he didn’t

do the one thing a real stag would have done—he didn’t run. There were

times when she’d chased him around the meadow to build his endurance, to

help him learn the stag body, but this lesson was a battle to confirm

something for herself and to prove something to him.

Panting from the effort, she finally leaped away, putting some distance

between them. Then she changed back to her human form.

“Enough,” she said, walking slowly toward their gear.

He remained in stag form, pivoting to watch her.

She bent to pick up her canteen, winced a little as her muscles protested. It

had been awhile since she’d worked that hard in her shadow hound form.

She glanced at him, could feel his confusion and anger pulsing over the

meadow. “Enough, Neall.”

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

He hesitated a moment longer, then changed back to human form and strode

toward her, his hands curled into fists.

“Mother’s tits, Ashk! What was that about?”

“A lesson,” she replied quietly. She opened the canteen and filled her mouth

with water, savoring the cool wetness before she swallowed. “Kernos did it

differently with me, but the lesson was the same.”

He stared at her. As understanding filled his blue eyes, he shook his head in

denial. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I can’t become the Lord of the Woods. I’m not pure Fae. They would never

accept it. Besides,” he added, sounding a bit desperate, “you’re the Hunter

now, and I’m not about to challenge you.”

Ashk took another sip of water before answering. “Do you accept that you

are a Lord of the Woods?”

He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “That’s not the same thing.”

“Do you accept what you are?”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly.

Ashk nodded. “Yes. You’re Fae, Neall. Looks alone are not what determines

who is and isn’t Fae. It’s the gift of the other form, and our command of the

animals in our world, that separates us from the humans and the wiccanfae.

And you, my young stag, cannot deny that you have that gift.”

“But...”

“Your mother was a witch, but she was born of a witch mother and a Fae

father. And your father was born of human and Fae. Those matings made

you what you are.”

“Ashk...”

“As the Hunter, I command you, young Lord. And as the Hunter, I am

telling you what I require of you.”

Looking troubled, Neall stepped forward and fetched his own canteen.

Ashk took another mouthful of water, closed her canteen, and dropped it on

the grass at her feet. She waited until he had slaked his thirst before

speaking, keeping her eyes focused on the meadow, knowing intuitively that

he’d listen with less protest if she wasn’t looking directly at him.

“Padrick and I have talked,” she said quietly, “and we’ve decided some

things that concern you. I’ve told the Clan bard, so he’ll stand as witness, but

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

Padrick needs to do things the human way because of his estate and because

he’s a baron, so he’s having his man of business draw up the papers naming

you the guardian of Evan and Caitlin.”

“Ashk—”

“It’s necessary,” she said sharply, cutting him off. “If something happens to

Padrick, Evan becomes the next Baron of Breton. But he’s still a child, and

he’ll need someone who can teach him what it means to be a good baron.

You lived in a baron’s house when you were growing up. You understand

how to run an estate and what the people need. You can teach him those

things.” She took a deep breath to steady herself, feeling her stomach clench

at the thought of having to say the next words. “And if something should

happen to Evan, Padrick has named you his second heir.”

“Ashk—”

“It’s proper,” she said, giving him a slashing look that silenced him. “It’s

customary for the title of baron to be passed from father to eldest son, but a

baron can name anyone his heir, whether he has sons or not. Padrick has

cousins, but none that he feels would rule Breton and this county the way it

needs to be ruled, none who would understand the wants and needs of all the

people who live here—the Fae, the humans, the wiccanfae, and the Small

Folk, too.” Watching him, she smiled at his discomfort. “The Small Folk

have always been wary of the Fae, even here where we live in the world and

walk the same woods, but they do talk to the Green Lady, and I’ve heard

quite a bit about the young Lord of the Woods and the witch who has taken

him for her husband. ‘Look here now, Lady Ashk’”—she lowered her voice

to imitate one of the small men—“ ‘It’s a fine thing for Lady Ari to be

giving us a bit of cream or butter that’s more than she has use for, and it’s a

fine thing for the young Lord to offer us a bit of beef. It’s a treat to have

them, so it is, but we’re a wee bit worried that they’re leaving their own

table too lean, if you see what we’re saying.’ And I lie with an honest heart

and assure them that I’ve never known the stew to be thin of meat or that

either of you did without butter or cream,” she finished in her own voice.

“We have enough,” Neall muttered.

“And it harms no one if the stew is a little thin on meat every now and again.

The fact is, the Small Folk feel easy with you and Ari, and that’s not

something to dismiss.” Ashk hesitated, then sighed. “There’s one other

thing. If the fight comes to Breton, I want you to take Ari up to Tir Alainn. I

want you to take Evan and Caitlin and the other children as well. And I want

you to stay with them.”

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THE HOUSE OF GAIAN - TIR ALAINN BOOK 3 - ANNE BISHOP

Temper flashed in Neall’s eyes. “A baron’s heir, when he’s a grown man,

doesn’t run from a fight. Neither does a Lord of the Woods.”

“It would be easier to stay,” Ashk agreed. “I—and Padrick— need you to

go.”

“There are enough elders who stay in Tir Alainn who could look after the

children.”

“The Fae children, yes, but not the human ones. Tir Alainn will be strange to

them, and they’ll need someone they can look to who understands their way

of looking at the world.”

Neall stared at her.

Ashk huffed in exasperation. “If the fight comes here, it’s not just the Fae at

risk.”

“You mean all the children, don’t you?” Neall said slowly.

She nodded. “From the Clan, the village, the gentry homes, the tenant farms.

Yes. All the children. And your horses.”

“You can’t protect things just because they’re mine.”

“I want Ari protected because she’s a witch, one of the Mother’s Daughters,

and as she grows heavier with the babe, she won’t be able to outrun an

enemy if it comes to that. You have two of the finest Fae stallions anywhere

in the west, not to mention the Fae mares that were bred by the Lord of the

Horse himself. We can’t count what has already been lost because of the

Inquisitors coming to Sylvalan. We can’t know what else will be lost before

we’re able to drive them out. But we can do our best to protect the people

and things we’ll need to rebuild our land and our lives. So you’ll do what I

need you to 4o. I can’t look back, Neall. When I ride out of here, I need to

go with an easy heart. And that is a burden I place on your shoulders.”

Neall looked away. When he looked at her again, his eyes were years older.

“I’ll do what you need.”

“Thank you.”

Neall sighed. “This is just talk anyway. Nothing is going to happen to

Padrick, and nothing is going to happen to you. You’ll still be the Hunter

when you’re a wrinkled great-grandmother.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Ashk replied quietly. “Power waxes and wanes,

Neall, and it doesn’t always follow the years. There are some who have

ascended to command their particular gift and remained strong for decades,

and there are others who have burned brightly for a few years before their

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THEHOUSEOFGAIAN-TIRALAINNBOOK3-ANNEBISHOPItbeganasawitch-hunt.ButtheMasterInquisitor’splanstoelimina ealltracesoffemalepowerintheworldhaveexpandedtocrushingtheSylvalanbaronswhoopposehim—andtodestroyingthewellspringofmagicintheMother’sHills.Facedwiththisevil,humans,witches,andtheFaebecomeuneasyall...

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