Shapeshifter Read Online Free Page A

chair.
    “It is in my mind that Bodb has asked for you to see what manner of woman you have become, perhaps even to consider claiming you as his own.” She raised a hand against Sive’s vehement headshake. “It is nothing against Derg as a father. He has been good to you, as I well know. But it would be to your advantage, Sive. If he offers it, you should accept Bodb’s protection.”
    Now Sive did rise, flustered and confused. “If he wanted to acknowledge me, he could have done so long since,” she said.
    “All the same. If he claims you, don’t respond in haste, is all I am saying.”
    Sive didn’t want to think about her mother’s words, much less discuss them. “I’ll pack now,” she said, as she rose and fled to the house.

FOUR
    B odb’s crystal house dazzled in the sunshine, brighter than the glittering surface of the great lake below it. Sive took a deep breath, marvelling at the colors of sky, hills and water reflected from its walls. Now she understood what her mother had meant by “coming down in the world.” She had thought their own king’s palace very beautiful, but this was beyond anything in her experience. Grian had been right, she saw now, to talk the king into providing a full retinue of maidens and guards for the journey. Sive was not sure what she would do with so many servants, but at least she would make an adequate entrance on behalf of their sidhe.
    She was led through rich, airy rooms and delicate gardens to Bodb himself. He was a handsome, commanding man with thick golden hair pulled into a knot at the back of his head. He was not, as Sive had imagined, lounging at his ease, fingering his famous harp; rather he strode briskly into the room with the air of a man with a long list of tasks to see to—which of course he was, with guests arriving from all corners of his kingdom. He gave Sive a gracious but brief welcome, thanking her for coming, introducing her to the master of revels, and pointedly not asking after her mother.
    Not exactly a greeting for a long-lost child, she noted wryly. Grian, it seemed likely, had been mistaken with that fond theory.
    “Daireann is looking forward to seeing you,” Bodb offered. He frowned. “I had thought she would be here to greet you. She insisted you share her rooms, so that you will feel more at home.”
    Of course she did, thought Sive as she mustered what she hoped was a grateful smile. It was hard to imagine this lovely palace held a single uncomfortable corner, but Sive had a feeling Daireann would find it.
    “I’VE PUT YOU OVER HERE, so you’ll have more privacy.” Daireann motioned to the corner of her sitting room, a spacious, bright chamber joined to a smaller sleeping room by a wide, arched opening, both so draped and swathed with gaudy silks that Sive felt swaddled in a peacock’s breast. “There’s a settle already there, so we won’t need to clutter up the room with an extra pallet.”
    Sive eyed the narrow bench warily. Elaborately carved, heaped with overstuffed cushions and raised at the head, it would be delightful for lazing away a dull afternoon— and a nightmare to sleep on.
    “Of course there’s no room for your women in here, or with my maids.” Daireann motioned vaguely to the door beyond her bedstead, which presumably led to a third room housing her servants. “With so many people staying, we’ve had to put all but the most important guests’ attendants in the outbuildings. But I expect you’re used to seeing to yourself.”
    It was masterful how she did it, wrapping so many slights in a single pronouncement. Sive’s growing anger— there was ample room for one companion to stay with her, and she was willing to bet she was the only female guest in the place sleeping without one—was almost overshadowed by grudging admiration. She forced a bright smile.
    “It’s lovely, Daireann,” she said. “You’re very generous to share your chambers with me.”
    “It’s the least a sister can do.”