S Farrell - Holder of Lightning

Jenna forced herself to focus, to fend off the beast and still hold back the others. She knew now how Lamh Shabhala had been beaten in the past-she could not put her attention anywhere long enough to counter-attack; inevitably someone would get through. She could sense that the other Cloch Mor Holders in the city were now aware of the battle: Moister Cleurach, the Banrion. . She could only hope that they would enter the fray soon. She gave way, the mage-demon following, backing down the lane and hoping Ennis was doing the same. She could feel him struggling against the fire cloch.

She heard his voice, calling out, "Jen-" and then cut off. She screamed her own pain and fear as the lava-creature stomped back toward her. Hold them.

They have to be weakening. . Already the cloch-beast's struggles were failing, though the other two clochs continued their assault. For an instant, she let down the wall, shouting against the pain as the energy stream burned her, as the clinging fire of the lava-creature struck her clothing. She channeled the flow of Lamh Shabhala toward the hands holding the mage-demon, imagining them crushing the life from the thing: the beast gibbered in panic, limbs flailing now in desperation. She heard bones cracking, and the soft, ugly sound of the body rupturing.

The cloch-beast vanished in a wail as down the lane she heard an echoing cry from its Holder.

Jenna threw the wall back up again, pushing away the other two clochs' assault. She'd fallen without knowing it, nearly losing hold of Lamh Shabhala.

Her cloca was scorched, her skin burned underneath. She forced herself to stand again, readied herself to release the wall now and counterattack.

Raging chaos shifted abruptly into silence and dark. In her cloch-vision, the other two clochs vanished. She could sense them still, but they were dim and inactive. The Holders were moving away, quickly, as if on horse-back. She flung furious lightning bolts toward them, but it was already too late. They were gone.

"Ennis!" She called his name, coughing in the dust, trying desperately to see either with her eyes or through Lamh Shabhala. "Ennis!"

He wasn't there. The dust was settling; she could see the street and the rubble strewn across it, but there was no sign of Ennis, and she could not feel him or his cloch with Lamh Shabhala.

He was gone. Taken.

"Ennis!" she called again, knowing in her heart it was useless. Footsteps were running toward her from the direction of the square. Jenna whirled, her hand on Lamh Shabhala, ready to strike.

"Holder!" One of the Ri's gardai-a sergeant by the insignia on his shoulder-came to an abrupt halt, staring in disbelief at the destruction around him and Jenna's battered appearance as half a dozen soldiers came hurrying behind. "Are you hurt?" "I'm fine," she said. "Mage O'Deoradhain has been captured." Jenna waved her arm. "Quickly! We have to find him!"

The sergeant barked orders and his men scattered, but Jenna knew it was too late.

Too late.

PART FOUR: The Shadow RI (Map: Dun Kiil)

Chapter 46: Decisions

"IT was my brother," the Banrion said. "Or at least I have to make that I assumption. He’s gone, along with all his retainers."

Jenna had been carried to her chambers in the keep and the healer sent for. Moister Cleurach had come rushing in as well, refusing to leave in case he might need to defend her with his cloch. Guards were set outside the doors and in the hallways, and trackers were sent in pursuit of Aron 0 Dochartaigh.

Now, several hours later, Jenna lay bandaged in her bed, the cuts, scrapes, and burns on her body salved and wrapped, her right arm and chest throbbing with fiery needles each time she breathed or moved. She kept finding her gaze snagged on the set of drawers across the room where the bag of anduilleaf sat. The only thing that kept her from telling them to bring her the leaf was knowing how disappointed Ennis would be if she started using it again.

She wasn’t sure how long that would mean anything. She was afraid that Ennis might never have the chance to know.

The Banrion Aithne sat alongside the bed, at her left hand, and for the first time Jenna seemed to see genuine anguish on her face. Her haughti-ness and stiff certainty were gone. "I’ve sent word that the Comhairle will meet tomorrow, and we’ll send an edict to the Ri that Aron and those with him are to be proclaimed traitors, with the price of death on their heads! Holder O’Deoradhain is harmed." A trace of her old confidence returned to her. "The Ri will sign the warrant, of course."

"Where has your brother gone?" Jenna asked. Her throat was raw; it hurt to talk. It hurt to move. It

"If I know him, he's riding hard for the mountains of Rubha na Scarbh That's where we both grew up, and he knows the paths and hidden places as well as anyone. There are caverns and lost valleys there where he can hide for years, and an army would not be able to dig him out. The people there are like him: grim and solitary folks, fiercely loyal to their clan-kin-they won't care about the proclamation. They'll hide him and protect him."

"So you're telling me that the warrant means nothing."

Aithne shrugged. "If we can find him before he reaches Rubha na Scarbh, it means everything. It's a long ride over hard country, and there are several townlands to cross with people who will wonder why a tiarna and his people are passing through so quickly. But once he's there, in his own land… " She shook her head. "I won't lie to you, Holder* In his land, he is the only genuine Rl, even though he doesn't claim that title. Inish Thuaidh isn't like the Tuatha of Talamh an Ghlas. We may fight, clan against clan, but we'd resist together if the Rl MacBradaigh tried to use the power given him by the Comhairle to take out one of us-because we would fear we'd be the next. The warrant may cause someone to betray Aron; we can hope for that. There will be people there who consider themselves more loyal to me than to him. And we can send a few troops in to look for him, though not an army."

Moister Cleurach stirred from the chair in which he'd been sitting all evening. "The Banrion tells you the truth, Jenna. We Inishlanders covet our little independences. We take oath first to clan, then to townland, and last to Dun Kiil."

"If they. ." Kill, Jenna started to say, but she wouldn't utter the word. "Speak ill and you make it true" was an old saying, one she'd heard her Aldwoman Pearce or her own mam utter many times."… hurt Ennis at all, I swear by the Mother-Creator Herself that I will kill him. I don't care if he's your brother, Banrion. I don't care about anything. I will kill him.

The Banrion smiled thinly. "You're an Inishlander, Holder. I would ex-pect nothing else."

"There were two other Cloch Mor Mages with him. Who were they?

"We don't know."

"You hold a Cloch Mor yourself, even if you hide it from everyone. Show it to me."

Aithne started, sitting back in the chair and glancing at Moister Cleurach. But she didn't deny the accusation. Her hands went to her neck, and she slowly lifted a fine, silver chain there. From under her leine, a blue stone emerged, a finger's length long and cut with intricate facets.

"Do you recognize it?" Jenna asked Moister Cleurach, who leaned forward to look closely at the gem, then shook his head.

"No. It's not a stone that the Order held."

"I wasn't a party to the Inishfeirm raid and I wasn't with my brother tonight, if that was your suspicion, Holder," Aithne said. "I can under-stand why you'd be cautious. But I was with the Rl. You can ask any of the Riocha or half the townspeople. I had nothing to do with this. Or you can use Lamh Shabhala and judge the truth of what I say."

Jenna held Aithne's gaze for a long breath, then closed her eyes. "Put the cloch away," she told her. "You're probably wise not to let others see it."