S Farrell - Holder of Lightning

Jenna nodded. "Banrion, I’m sorry. ." she began, then faltered. So much had happened that demanded an apology: that she hadn’t told the Banrion about the false Lamh Shabhala she and Moister Cleurach had Prepared; that she hadn’t trusted Aithne; that Aithne had been injured Protecting her… "I wish I’d told you before what the Moister and I had done."

"I wish you had also," Aithne said and the agreement cut deeper than any of the wounds. "But I knew, or at least suspected. And I understand why you kept your own counsel and didn’t tell me."

"Aron was your brother, and I didn’t know how you’d react. I thought it might work, and it was the

only way I could think of to get Ennis b u and. ."A deep sob racked her from the center of her being, a grief ' huge and terrible that for a moment she thought she couldn't bear ' Aithne put her arms around Jenna, pulling her close. Jenna wept on the Banrion's shoulder, letting the lamentation rise within her and give voice to her bereavement as Aithne stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head as her mam might have done.

Her mam. .

Jenna gently pulled away from Aithne, pushing the grief back down within herself. "Banrion, during the battle, Lamh Shabhala showed me the face of one of your brother's allies. It was Tiarna Padraic Mac Ard, of Tuath Gabair, holding the cloch they'd taken from Ennis. And the other clochs. . Moister Cleurach is certain that at least one of the other Clochs Mor was among those stolen from Inishfeirm."

Aithne's face went grim. "That's a strong accusation," she responded. "Aron is stubborn and foolish. He thinks mostly of himself. But you call him a traitor to Inish Thuaidh now. And that is something I find hard to believe."

"I know what I saw," Jenna answered. She gestured at the sullen orange embers of the pyre. "I'm also realizing, now, how the loss of someone you love can mark and change you. And your brother's right: I was responsible for that. I bear the blame."

Aithne said nothing. Her gaze went from Jenna to the pyre. Finally, she placed her hand over her Cloch Mor. "I've been told the name of this cloch is Scail," she said. "'Reflection,' because it steals the power from another Cloch Mor and uses that force to defeat the attack. Aron gave the cloch to me, after I returned from meeting you at Inishfeirm. He said that it had been in our clan for centuries, but though he was eldest and it belonged rightfully to him, he had another. I used the cloch with Aron so that I could learn to understand how it worked. In those few minutes when our clochs were linked and struggling against each other, I also saw Aron’s mind mirrored in my own." She paused, taking a slow breath an looking away from Jenna. "I saw the rot in his soul," she continued, don't think you made him that way, Jenna. I think Cianna's death on exposed that vein within him and gave him an excuse to turn to it mo and more. If the Rl Ard

promised Aron that he would be made RI in Dun Kiil, then my brother might well listen and betray kin, clan, and oath. I still hope not. I still hope that there’s some other reason why he would tolerate Mac Ard’s presence here."

Aithne sighed. She glanced up at the sky, then down at her cloch have much time, Holder," she said. "And whatever my brother is or whatever he plans, you will need Lamh Shabhala. Let’s use the mage-lights while we can, and worry afterward."

The day dawned surprisingly clear and warm. The field workers came out from Glenn Aill, staying well away from the encampment over which flew the banner of Dun Kiil and Ri MacBradaigh. Of Aron O Dochartaigh and his people, there was no sign.

Jenna let Lamh Shabhala open slightly; in the wave of cloch-vision she felt no other Clochs Mor aside from those with the Banrion and Moister Cleurach.

If Aron and Mac Ard were still lurking in the area, they weren’t where they could immediately attack.

Ennis’ pyre still smoldered in the field, wispy tendrils of smoke rising from the ash. "Holder?"

Jenna turned to see Aithne and Moister Cleurach already mounted on their horses. The attendants were packing the last of the supplies onto the pack animals and the Banrion held the reins of Jenna’s horse. "It’s time to go back to Dun Kiil," Aithne said. "We need to make plans. I’ll make certain that the Comhairle puts a watch on our coast immediately, but I don’t have much hope that we’ll catch Mac Ard before he returns to Talamh an Ghlas and tells the Ri Ard what’s happened here. If you’re right and my brother has allied himself with the Ri Ard and the Tuatha, then we can expect them to attack soon. Possibly before the Festival of Gheimhri and winter. I’ve been talking with Moister Cleurach; he wants you to go back to Inishfeirm at least through the month of Softwood to continue your study with Lamh Shabhala."

Jenna walked over to them and took the reins.

She swung herself up on the horse, tucking the long cloca between her legs. She stared at the Pyre, then lifted her gaze away from Glenn Aill to the north and east where mountains lifted stony heads in the sunshine… You can determine the shape of this age…"… It doesn’t have to be this way…" I don’t think my path leads to Inishfeirm or Dun Kiil," she said.

Moister Cleurach followed the direction of her

gaze, and his mouth tightened under his beard.

"You can't be thinking of Thall Coill. Jenna, don't be stupid-"

He stopped as Jenna's head snapped around and she glared at him. "If you think that I'm at all concerned about the possibility of dying, you're mistaken, Moister."

He sniffed and frowned. "I didn't think that at all, First Holder. In fact, it doesn't surprise me at all that you'd choose a suicidal course So f your recent choices haven't proved to be particularly wise."

The words stung, her face reddening as if he'd slapped her across the cheek. "The difference between us is that I don't judge wisdom by ho little the action might cost me."

Aithne gave a short laugh, but Moister Cleurach’s eyebrows lowered like white thunderheads over the sea. "Jenna," he said, his placating tone at odds with his face, "at Inishfeirm, I can show you what the other Hold-ers of Lamh Shabhala have said about Thall Coill and the Scrudu. Why neither Tadhg or Severii O'Coulghan would attempt that, not after Tadhg witnessed Peria's death, and Tadhg was one of the most accomplished cloudmages."

"So you believe that because Tadhg was afraid of the Scrudu, I should be also. No doubt that's more of what you call wisdom."

"Tadhg watched the woman he loved die there," Moister Cleurach an-swered, all the softness gone from his voice. It was steel and bone. "You of all people should appreciate that. Don't push away those who are only trying to help you, Holder. You need us more than you can imagine."

"Don't try to impose your will where it doesn't belong. I am the First Holder, not you."

The two glared at each other. The Banrion rode up between them, so that their horses shifted and the eye contact was broken. "I think the Holder is fully aware of your feelings, Moister Cleurach," she said. "Jenna, I won't presume to tell you what course to follow. I only ask you to consider this: if you go to Thall Coill and fail, then you leave Inish Thuaidh open to the Ri Ard."

"If I don't, then probably Inish Thuaidh falls anyway. And right now, Banrion, I have to say that I find I don't really care. Inish Thuaidh was my great-mam’s home and I love this land, too, but ultimately the land will remain, no matter who is called RI in Dun Kiil. Will the lives of these people change?" She gestured at the field workers. "They’ll just switch one master for another, that’s all. No matter who rules, the crops will have to be planted, tended, and harvested, and the stock will have to be fed an watered. I know. I was once one of them and