S Farrell - Holder of Lightning

He was shaking his head, and the confusion in his face seemed genuine

"No, Jenna. I swear I didn't. I knew the story, aye, but not the acolyte's surname… All that happened forty years before I came here as a boy. It was just an old cautionary tale given to the acolytes and Mall's last name was never mentioned. None of us were old enough to have known them, and the elder Brathairs who might have been here then wouldn't talk about it."

"They were told not to talk about it," Moister Cleurach interrupted. "It was a foolish deed done by a naive young man that cost him his life, and what was important was that it not happen again, or we might lose one of the stones we knew were true clochs. What Niall stole was probably just a pebble and not a true cloch, and almost certainly not the cloch it was reputed to be."

"Moister," O'Deoradhain said, "Jenna is the First. The Holder of Lamh Shabhala."

The Maister’s eyes widened in sudden realization and he frowned at her so harshly that Jenna took an involuntary step backward, her hand going to the cloch under her tunic. Her sleeve fell away, exposing the scars, and Moister Cleurach huffed once. He glanced back-the clerks were staring also, and he waved a hand at them. They scattered, leaving the room by the rear door as Moister Cleurach turned back to Jenna and O’Deoradhain. "Then. ."

"Aye, Moister," O’Deoradhain told him. "The cloch Niall took was what it had been said to be."

"No…" Moister Cleurach protested, then his mouth snapped shut and his eyes narrowed. He seemed filled with a cold anger as he regarded Jenna again. "If you hold the cloch Niall Mac Ard stole from us, then Lamh Shabhala is not yours, but the Order of Inishfeirm’s." He held out his hand, as if he expected her to place the stone there.

Jenna returned his glare. Her arm throbbed as she pulled the cloch out and forced the fingers of her right hand to close around it. She shut her eyes momentarily: no, there were no other clochs na thintri here other than the ones she and O’Deoradhain carried. "Lamh Shabhala is its own," she told Moister Cleurach, "and it has chosen me."

His eyes stared greedily at the stone. "That is the cloch na thintri I have had described to me. There is a record of it here: we have paintings and drawings of all the clochs na thintri that were in our collection, and I recognize this-there was no other like it. So… plain."

"And your Moister at the time thought the stories about the cloch being Lamh Shabhala were false, or that it was at best a minor stone," Jenna retorted. "That’s what my great-mam believed; that was what Niall had told her."

"Indeed, that was Moister Dahlga’s belief,"

Moister Cleurach responded "He wasn’t the most intelligent man and I heard him say that myself, but what else was he going to claim but that bit of wishful thinking? We thought the stone lost at sea-Mall’s body was found a few days later on the coast of Tuath Infochla and brought back here; we believed your great-mam had suffered the same fate until two years ago, when we learned that she’d actually lived, and that her son-Mall’s child-had left Tuath Infochla and traveled south. By then we also knew that mage-lights would return soon, and so we sent out some of the Brathairs to look for this offspring of Niall Mac Ard in case he still had the cloch that might be-" He stopped. His lips pressed together. "-that was Lamh Shabhala."

"You're mistaken if you believe you have any claim to Lamh Shabhala," Jenna told him. "Not after what my family's gone through. Not after what I've gone through." She looked at O'Deoradhain. "And I made a mistake coming here." She turned on the balls of her feet, ready to leave.

"Wait!" The note of panic in Moister Cleurach’s voice halted Jenna in midstep. "Why did you bring Lamh Shabhala back here?"

O'Deoradhain answered. "She came to learn, Moister. She came because I told her that you would teach her to be a cloudmage, a Siur of the Order. She came because this was her family's home and I told her that the Order would help her. If all that's wrong, and I've unintentionally lied to Jenna, then you can have my resignation. I'm leaving with her."

O'Deoradhain's rebuke put color in Moister Cleurach’s cheeks. His chest expanded as if he were about to shout something in return, then he let the breath out with a sigh. "I'm sorry," he said simply. His hands opened in a gesture of apology, then fell to his sides. He sat on the edge of one of the desks, slumping. "I'm sorry," he said again. "It's just that it's all gone, everything Moister after Moister worked for over the centuries. He knows-" Moister Cleurach pointed to O'Deoradhain-"but do you? Do you know why the Order of Inishfeirm came to be?"

Jenna shook her head, silent, still half-turned away.

"Come with me, then," he said. He started to walk toward the door through which his clerks had gone, then stopped at the door when he realized that Jenna wasn't following. "It will be easier if you see," he told her. "I promise you that it's not a trap." He held the door open.

Reluctantly, with another glance at O'Deoradhain, she went through.

Chapter 38: The Vision of Tadhg

THEY walked down a corridor of marble flags. Twin rutted hollows were worn in the hard stone, unpolished and stained: the marks of countless sandaled feet over countless years. Jenna realized then just how old the White Keep was. The halls of the Order were quiet; the conversa-tions that drifted from the open doors they passed were whispered and hushed. Even the laughter she heard once had the sense of being muffled and held back. The occasional acolytes and Brathairs-no females, Jenna noticed-they met in their walk gave a quick bow of obeisance to the Moister, but Jenna felt their eyes on her, curious and wondering.

They came finally to a set of ornate, twin doors of bronze, the metal cast with curling flourishes and spirals that Jenna knew all too well: the same lines that marked her arm. Moister Cleurach pushed the doors open and beckoned to her to enter.

The room was large, with columns of polished marble in two rows down either side. At the end of the hall was a huge statue, easily twenty feet high, larger than any carving Jenna had ever seen: the figure of a man, elderly yet still vital. He was a seeming giant, his cloca white and flowing as if in some unseen breeze, his skin tanned, the eyes a startling blue under grayish, thin hair. He seemed to look directly at them, his expression solemn yet pleasant. His right arm was raised, the fingers curled into a fist as if he held something, and on the dome above him were painted the hues of the mage-lights, dancing in a black sky dotted with stars. For a moment, Jenna couldn’t breathe, staring at the colossus. "Go on," Moister Cleurach told her. "Look closer. ."

Jenna walked down the wide corridor between the columns, her foot steps echoing loudly. The gaze of the statue seemed to follow her, watching her as she approached. It was only when she reached the railing set a few yards before the statue that its regard left her. "Go up to him," Moister Cleurach said. "Touch him." She could hear Moister Cleurach and O’Deoradhain following behind. She went to the statue, her head reaching only halfway to his knee. She spread her left hand on the leg, expecting to feel cold, painted marble.

The leg was warm, and the flesh seemed to yield under her touch. She drew her hand back with a gasp, half-expecting the giant to be looking down at her with a sardonic grin. "That is the founder of our order and its first Moister-Tadhg O'Coulghan, Holder of Lamh Shabhala and the da of Severii O'Coulghan, who would be the Last Holder." Jenna could hear amusement in Moister Cleurach’s voice. "And no sculptor carved this image of him, No, the chisel was Lamh Shabhala, the marble the stuff of the mage-lights, and the artist Severii. He made this image of his da with the dying power of the cloch in the last days of the mage-lights." Moister Cleurach gave a soft laugh. "It startles all the acolytes in the same way, the first time they touch it. The statue has remained warm and soft and lifelike for over seven centuries now."