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608 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published September 1, 2000
“Don't you long for something different to happen, something so exciting and new it carries you along with it like a great tide, something that lets your life blaze and burn so the whole world can see it?”
“Come, dear heart.Lean on me and let us walk this path together.”
“Your actions are your own.Your choices are your own.Each of us carries a burden of guilt for decisions made or not made.You can let that rule your whole life or you can put it behind you and move on.”
“He and I…we share a bond. Not love, exactly. It goes beyond that. He is mine as surely as sun follows moon across the sky. Mine before ever I knew he existed. Mine until death and beyond.”
“The world is simple in its essence. Life,death,love,hate.Desire,fulfillment.Magic.”
”I have believed, for a long time, that the Fair Folk guide our steps. That they work their great plans through us. But you are not in their scheme. Perhaps you hold some sort of key.”
╰⊰✿Overall Feelings On Son of Shadows✿⊱╮
╰⊰✿The Story✿⊱╮
“I can see we have taught you well, Liadan,” said my mother, regarding me closely. “You have my skill with healing and your father’s gift for love. He gathers all around him under his protective shade like a great forest tree. I see the same strength in you, Daughter.”
“He and I—we share a bond. Not love, exactly. It goes beyond that. He is mine as surely as sun follows moon across the sky. Mine before ever I knew he existed. Mine until death and beyond. He is in terrible danger. From others and from himself. If I could do more to protect him, I would.
╰⊰✿Why I Love the Sevenwaters World✿⊱╮
╰⊰✿A Few Small Issues✿⊱╮
Eamonn took my hand in his and touched it to his lips. “Your sister is indeed very beautiful,” he said, with a trace of a smile. “A man might well dream of such a woman. But it would be your face he wanted to see on his pillow when he woke.” I felt myself blushing crimson and was quite lost for words.
“As are you to judge a woman,” I said straightaway. “I need not know you, to recognize what you are,” he said bleakly. “Your kind are all the same....“For you, perhaps, I might make an exception,” he said grudgingly. “You are not so easily classified.”
For me, there is enough excitement in helping to deliver a new lamb, or seeing small oaks grow strong in spring rains. In shooting an arrow straight to the mark, or curing a child of the croup. Why ask for more when what we have is so good?”
I kept a brave face, but under it I was petrified with fear. I, the girl who wanted nothing more than to stay at home and tend her herb patch; I, the girl who loved above all to exchange tales with her family of an evening after supper, instructing fierce strangers on how to hack off a dying man’s limb and cauterize the wound with hot iron.
I sensed our fates were intertwined; we were closer than any mates or lovers or partners. This was a link that would transcend death, an unbreakable bond. This seemed ever clearer to me, a certainty that could not be questioned.
My mother knew every tale that was ever told by the firesides of Erin, and more besides. Folks stood hushed around the hearth to hear her tell them after a long day's work, and marveled at the bright tapestries she wove with her words. She related the many adventures of Cu Chulainn the hero, and she told of Fionn mac Cumhaill, who was a great warrior and cunning with it. In some households, such tales were reserved for men alone. But not in ours, for my mother made a magic with her words that drew all under its spell. She told tales that had the household in stitches with laughter, and tales that made strong men grow quiet. But there was one tale she would never tell, and that was her own.
I sat there and made my breathing slow and calm, and told myself what I had told others many a time: Breathe, Liadan, the pain will pass. The night was very quiet; the darkness a living thing, creeping in around the two of us. I felt how tight strung his body was; I sensed his terror, and how he fought to conquer it. I could not hope to touch his mind, nor did I wish to see more of the dark images it held. But I could still speak, and it seemed to me words were the only tool I had for keeping out the dark.
"Dawn will come," I told him quietly. "The night can be very dark, but I'll stay with you until the sun rises. These shadows cannot touch you while I am here. Soon we'll see the first hint of gray in the sky, the color of a pigeon's coat, then the smallest touch of the sun's finger, and one bird will be bold enough to wake first and sing of tall trees and open skies and freedom. Then all will brighten and color will wash across the earth, and it will be a new day. I will stay with you until then."