Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

Talisen wiped his fingers clean and took up his harp. The song was indeed sad, telling of all the lifetimes the Old Woman of Beara had lived through; the husbands she had watched grow old and die, one after the other; the children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren she had long ago buried and forgotten. Talisen paused.

"I told you it was gloomy," he said. "But here's the part about the well.

" Nine hazel trees spread their branches wide;

In clear water spotted salmon glide.

Past, present, and future to reveal,

When Beara the secrets will unseal. "

Talisen broke off. "Is there indeed such a well, Crann?"

"There was," said Crann.

"What were its powers?"

"It revealed what was to come and what had already been. It could find that which was lost. It healed injuries. But it could also be very dangerous, if used improperly."

"Does the well still exist?" asked Talisen.

"I do not know. I heard long ago it had run dry. Now let us get some rest."

At first Collun slept deeply, but then he awoke and could not get back to sleep. The sky was overcast, obscuring the sun, but because it was daytime Collun could not shake his restlessness.

He got to his feet and stretched. His eyes fell on the apple orchard. He wondered if there were still good apples to be found. He took along an empty pack and headed for the grove.

There were hundreds of apples on the ground; many were rotten, but Collun found a few edible ones. He began to fill the pack, letting his thoughts drift. Nessa had had a great love of apples, especially roasted and slathered in butter, honey, and cinnamon. These apples were the kind that tasted best roasted.

At the foot of a tree Collun spotted a clump of comfrey. He remembered he was low on the herb and bent to pick some, when he suddenly heard a bird call out, "Peewit, peewit!" It was a cry of distress. He quickly turned, scanning the area. He saw a fluttering motion on the ground ten paces away. He moved toward the bird. It hopped away. Collun took another few steps and it hopped farther away from him. He tried to speak to it in soothing tones, but the bird kept moving out of his reach.

It was a bronze-green bird with a black throat and underbelly. It held its wing at an awkward angle, and Collun was afraid it was broken.

Collun was slightly out of breath from chasing the injured bird. He paused. He could not identify it. Its belly and "peewit" reminded him of the lapwing, but lapwings did not have golden eye markings.

Lapwing. A memory stirred in Collun. The deceitful lapwing. He suddenly laughed out loud.

The bird was a lapwing, a different species than the ones in Inkberrow perhaps, but like its southern relative it had been leading Collun on a merry chase. When he was young, he and Talisen had made a sport of finding and robbing birds' nests. They had never been able to find the lapwing's nest, until they had caught on to its tricks. The lapwing was a master of deception. It would feign injury to lure intruders away from its nest.

The lapwing must have realized Collun was on to him, for it suddenly flew up into the apple trees, its wing showing no sign of injury, and disappeared.

Collun retraced his steps, a grin on his face. Some fresh eggs for the evening meal would be a welcome treat. At first he doubted he'd be able to find where he'd been before the lapwing drew him away, but then he remembered the comfrey.

Sure enough, he spotted a nest in the tree right beside the one with the comfrey under it. After filling his wallet with comfrey, Collun shimmied up the trunk and took three of the six eggs, leaving some for the lapwing.

Nestled in among the eggs was a small apple. Collun idly wondered how it had gotten there, and because it was so perfect in shape and was a rich golden color, he pocketed the apple as well.

Once he was back on the ground he gazed up at the sky. Sunset was still far off. Yet he did not feel sleepy. He walked slowly among the apple trees, thinking again of Nessa. Eventually the orchard ended, and he emerged into a copse of trees. Spotting a slab of smooth rock in the midst of it, he sat down, removing Nessa's small book from his jersey pocket. He ran his fingers over the simple design tooled in the leather cover. Despite the fact they were being pursued by morgs and still did not know where Nessa was, Collun felt the first stirrings of optimism since leaving Aonarach. He knew it was because of Crann.

He replaced the book in his pocket and took a draught of water from his skin bag. Some of it dribbled onto the stone under him. The water quickly seeped into grooves on the surface. Collun peered more closely and saw there was something carved into the rock. It was lettering in the old language.

He suddenly experienced an odd feeling of breathlessness; a hushed expectant sensation he could not account for.

Then, as he bowed his head to make out the lettering, he heard the faint splash of water coming from underneath. His breath still short, he dug his fingers around the sides of the rock. It was a square slab, fashioned by man, not nature. He tried to pry the slab up, but he had to do more digging around the edges until it was loosened enough to move. Even then he had to use a stick as a lever to help raise it.

He finally was able to slide the heavy rock off. Underneath was a pool of water. The sides were reinforced with white marbleized stone. The water rose to within a hand's length of the top. Collun could not tell how deep it was.

Suddenly a silver shape broke the surface. It was a salmon with spots standing out on its gleaming body. It glided back down, out of sight. A few moments later, it reappeared and was accompanied by a second salmon. Then they were both gone.

A man-made well with salmon swimming in it. Collun looked up suddenly. The trees around him were hazel trees, and he counted nine of them.

The boy drew a deep breath. Beara's Well. Was it possible?

Tentatively, Collun extended a finger and dipped it into the water. It was cool. It looked and felt no different from any other water.

His heart beating loudly, Collun put his finger to his lips.

NINETEEN

Arracht

"Collun?!" Crann's voice echoed in his ear. Collun blinked several times. Crann was standing over him, his hand on the boy's shoulder. The wizard's face was unreadable in the twilight.

Collun blinked again. Twilight? When he had pried up the stone it had been the middle of the afternoon.

"What...?"

"You found the well, spriosan. Did you drink the water?"

"Only a drop, on my finger. And then—"

"There is no time to tell me more. The morgs have gained on us." The wizard leaned down and slid the stone back over the well. He pulled Collun, still in a daze, to his feet. The two ran through the apple orchard.

"I found him," Crann called ahead.

Soon they had left Trout Beck and the apple orchard far behind. The Ellyl horses were flying at the top of their speed.

"Brie was scouting ... found the morgs coming up on us fast..." Talisen shouted to Collun as they rode.

The moon had risen, casting an eerie brightness on the landscape. They were heading due west. Collun began to smell the sea.

It was well after midnight when they came to the coast. Crann gestured for them to slow their horses. They were on a rocky cliff high above the ocean. The moon's light dappled the endless moving expanse below with silver. It was Collun's first glimpse of the Siar Muir. He was awestruck.

Brie made another scouting foray and came back with the news that the morgs had slowed their pace and, strangely, that there were now only two in pursuit. Crann looked thoughtful.

Following the coast north, they maintained a moderate pace for the next several hours. Collun began to feel drowsy, as he'd had little sleep that day. He had to struggle to stay awake. Crann came up beside him.