Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

"I know the ways between here and Temair well enough. You are the one traveling into unknown territory."

The plan was to journey together for a short distance, and then Brie, Talisen, and Gwynedd would veer off at a diagonal, heading southeast toward Temair.

The time to part came quickly. Collun examined Gwynedd's wounds one last time. He freshened the prince's bandages, and then gave Brie and Talisen the rest of the comfrey leaves. Gwynedd was barely conscious but seemed to understand that Collun was leaving them.

"Good luck," Collun thought he heard Gwynedd whisper through dry lips.

Talisen clapped Collun on the back. "When you find Nessa of the black eyes, tell her I've learned a hundred new riddles and that I shall make a song just for her when she comes back."

Collun agreed to do as Talisen requested. Then the two friends looked at each other, and without words, they clasped hands.

Collun turned to say good-bye to Brie.

"I will guard the dagger that was a trine well," she said.

"Thank you," Collun replied. Their eyes locked for a moment. Collun suddenly felt as though the small dagger was turning in his heart. "Brie...," he began.

"Yes?" Her eyes were bright.

"Uh ... be careful," he said lamely.

Brie nodded. "And you, too," she said, then swung herself onto her horse.

Collun mounted Fiain, and the Ellyl horse broke into a brisk trot. Collun lifted his hand in farewell.

As he came to the crest of a small hill, Collun took a last look back at the three figures. He felt a sudden surge of loneliness, but he set his jaw and focused his thoughts on what lay ahead.

At twilight he arrived at the apple orchard.

He and Fiain made their way to the copse of hazel trees. It was strangely silent; not a leaf stirred, not a bird called. Collun dismounted. The horse wandered off a short distance.

With a prickling sensation on his scalp, Collun slid the rock slab off the top of the well. A salmon darted in and out of sight. Taking a cup from his pack, Collun filled it with water. He hesitated a moment. Crann had said the waters of the well could be dangerous if used improperly. And just a drop had caused him to lose several hours of his life.

Resolutely he closed his eyes and concentrated all his thoughts on Nessa. He raised the cup to his lips.

"I would not drink that, were I you," came a deep voice.

Collun's eyes flew open. A tall, thin man dressed in black clothing stood before him. He was bald and had pale, unfocused eyes that gazed fixedly above Collun's head. The boy guessed the man was blind.

"Why not?" Collun asked.

"Well, I'm not certain, but it would either kill you outright or else drive you mad. One or the other," the man answered in an offhand manner.

Collun lowered the cup, his hand shaking.

"It is Beara's Well, you see. Only Beara can drink the water. Not even Mordu can drink."

"Mordu?"

The bald man pointed to himself. "Mordu serves the Cailleach Beara. And it is time for Mordu to prepare her dinner." He turned to leave. "Close the well when you go, if you please." Mordu began to walk away.

Collun slid the rock into place over the well. He scrambled to his feet and fell into step beside the blind man who walked as surely as a sighted person. Fiain followed behind.

"Would Beara help me, do you think?"

"Have you lost something?" Mordu asked, his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Yes. My sister."

"That was careless of you," Mordu said accusingly.

"It wasn't like that. She was kidnapped. And I go to rescue her. But I need to know where she is being held. Would Beara be able to tell me that? With the help of her well?"

"More likely she would turn you into an apple seed and sow you in her orchard," Mordu answered in a matter-of-fact voice. "But you can try. Is that an Ellyl horse with you?"

"Yes. Fiain is his name. The Cailleach Beara's magic must be powerful," Collun said nervously.

"She likes to show off," the blind man said with a trace of scorn. "But old age has addled her," he added. "She forgets things. Like as not she'd think she was changing you into an apple seed, and you'd really turn out to be an apron. Or a swan. Now, that wouldn't be so bad. I've always liked swans."

"I would prefer to stay as I am," Collun responded.

"Suit yourself." Mordu shrugged. An old, derelict-looking house had come into sight. Mordu was heading toward it.

"Is this where you live with the Old Woman of Beara?" asked Collun.

Mordu nodded. "I would invite you in, but you did say you prefer your present shape ... Besides, she's been in a foul mood all day." They were passing through a small grove of apple trees that surrounded the house.

"Why?"

"Says she lost something. But when I asked what, she says she can't remember. I told her to try the well, but she just barked at me. It's not easy." Mordu sighed. "Good evening to you, then." The bald man bowed and entered the hovel.

Collun stood irresolute outside the door. He did not like the sound of a foul-tempered hag with powerful magic and a penchant for shape changing. But he carried her life in his jersey pocket. If he was to give it to her, perhaps she would be grateful enough to grant him a favor. It was a risk, but what choice did he have? Blunder about Scath blindly on the off chance of running across his sister? Fiain gave a whicker.

"I won't be long," Collun said to the horse. He stepped up to the door and knocked.

TWENTY-ONE

The Hag of Beara

Mordu opened the door.

"May I see the Cailleach Beara?" Collun asked politely.

The blind man's face registered surprise, but he gestured Collun inside.

The room was dark, lit only by a few candles. The inside of the house was as run-down as the outside. Dust lay thick on the floor, and the furniture was broken and worn.

At one side of the room, Collun saw an old woman hunched over a large loom, her feet rhythmically pumping the treadles while her gnarled hands deftly worked the threads.

Collun had never seen a person so old. Her skin hung loose on her bones, with cascades of wrinkles spilling down her face. The color of her skin reminded Collun of dried-out apple blossom petals.

Collun's glance fell on the design in the cloth the old woman was weaving. When he saw what it was, he let out a low cry.

Against a background of a dark blue sky and an ever-moving sea, two figures stood locked in a deadly embrace. It was Crann and the creature Arracht.

It was the same nightmarish scene Collun kept seeing over and over in his head, both awake and asleep.

"How did you know—?" Collun stumbled out.

The hag's hands kept moving on the loom. "Beara knows. Past, present, and future. The morg called Arracht out of the forest, but it is because of the cowardly boy-child that the Wizard of the Trees is gone."

Collun gasped for air as though from a blow to his stomach. He stepped back a few paces, leaning against a table to support himself.

"Yes," the hag went on, her dry voice buzzing in Collun's ears. "Beara knows. It was because of you the wizard died. There is no one else to blame."

Collun's cheeks were flame hot.

"The boy-child knows Beara speaks the truth. The prince of Eirren lies broken, his horse dead. The wizard is gone. And why?"

Collun trembled, tears smearing his vision. He thrust his hand inside his jersey, feeling for the small golden apple.

"Because the cowardly boy-child was too frightened to fight his own battles. To find his own sister. And this is the son of Cuillean, the brave, the mighty champion. How proud he would be of his only son." The crone opened her toothless mouth, cackling with laughter.

Collun grasped the apple and snatched it out of his shirt. He held it aloft with a shaking hand.