Edith Pattou - Hero's Song

One coil separated itself from the others. It snaked across the stony ground until it was close to the edge of the island. Then it arched into the air.

Collun found himself looking directly up into the face of the Firewurme. He was separated from it only by the strip of causeway he had yet to cross. He stood frozen.

Naid's head was as large as a farmhouse. It was lumpy, like an enormous blob of dough, and the creature's eyes were a flat yellow. They were shaped like large almonds, with small black pupils in the center. Its wide, gaping mouth held no teeth. A thin black tongue lolled from one corner of the maw. Dripping from the tongue was a thick clear substance, part liquid and part solid. Sram. Whenever a drop of it hit the ground, it made a faint fizzing sound.

The flat yellow eyes stayed on Collun. The black tongue slid slowly to the other side of the Firewurme's toothless mouth.

Collun shuddered. He realized he was bathed in sweat. The heat that emanated from the Wurme was unlike anything Collun had ever known. It made his eyes water and lungs ache. It was a thousand times hotter than the forge at Aonarach at its hottest.

Collun's body tensed as he saw the Wurme's head dip, but it did not move toward him. It hovered above a large tree branch on the shore. The branch was thick and solid and as long as Collun's leg, but lying below the Firewurme's jaw it looked no bigger than a twig.

The creature's tongue slowly caressed the branch. Collun watched in horror as the wood began to disintegrate. He remained perfectly still, sweat dripping in large drops from his skin. The tongue lapped the shrinking branch again. Several minutes passed. The monster blinked its yellow eyes at him, then retracted its tongue with a hollow slapping sound. All that was left of the branch was a glistening yellow stain on the rocks.

The Wurme reminded Collun of a wolf he had once seen approaching a cluster of fat sheep in Inkberrow. And he thought he saw laughter in the Wurme's flat eyes.

The creature had thick, dirty white lids, which it kept half-shut. Then the sun came out. Though it barely penetrated the thick haze that hung over the island, Collun saw that the light—almost imperceptibly—made the Wurme's pupils dilate. At first he didn't take in the significance. Then he realized the Firewurme's pupils expanded when exposed to light instead of contracting.

Collun slowly inched his way backward across the causeway. The Firewurme's yellow eyes watched him go. Then the creature withdrew, recoiling its body. It kept its face forward.

Collun sank to the rocky surface, his throat raw from the corrosive air surrounding the island. Brie sat on one side of him, while Fiain stood on the other.

"Crann told me it cannot be injured," Collun said, clearing his throat. "And he thought it was like a garden worm; if it is cut, it regenerates itself."

"Has it a heart?"

"I do not think so."

"Does it have no weakness at all?" asked Brie.

"Crann thought not. Except perhaps its eyes. But the lids are thick." He paused. "Just now I noticed that the Wurme's pupils do not contract with light, but expand. I wonder..."

"Yes?" said Brie.

"If the creature were to be startled by a bright light of some kind..." Collun trailed off.

Brie was nodding. "The agaric. We could use it—"

Collun turned to her, his expression implacable. "Not we."

Brie looked down, her face set in a stubborn frown.

Collun continued. " I will make a torch ... and if I am lucky, perhaps the flash of light it makes will give me time to strike the Firewurme's eye with the dagger that was a trine."

"The dagger that bears the Cailceadon Lir," added Brie in a soft voice.

"If the Wurme's tongue finds me first, it will make little difference whether the stone is chalcedony or charcoal." Collun paused. "I ask one thing of you, Breo-Saight. When I face the Firewurme, go to the cave with Fiain. If my sister is there, and alive, take her away with you. Take her to Temair, if you can."

Brie opened her mouth to protest, but Collun silenced her. "If you are my friend, you will do what I ask and no more." Brie shut her mouth and nodded, her face pale.

Collun rose and set to work on his torch. He found a stunted tree growing nearby and broke off its longest branch. He took the remaining agaric and pounded it, adding small amounts of beeswax and water. Then he laid the mixture onto the end of the branch in layers, smoothing and pressing hard, so it adhered to the wood. When he was finished, he dusted it all over with agaric powder, then he set it carefully to dry. It resembled a very large lasan.

Collun crossed to Fiain and, as he fed him Mealladh's apple, told him what he planned to do. Collun could tell from the angry flaring of the animal's nostrils that he wanted to face the Wurme with Collun. The boy focused his thoughts, willing the animal to understand. If I am to die, I wish to die knowing my sister is safe. She will be safe with you and Brie. Please do this for me, Fiain. The Ellyl horse stood still, then bowed his head slightly.

Then Collun knelt and ran his fingers over the Ellyl horse's hooves. They were tough, he knew, much tougher than those of mortal horses, having no need for metal shoes. But he did not know how they would react to the Firewurme's sram. Fiain gave a nicker of disdain, and Collun felt reassured.

Collun spent the rest of the evening preparing to meet the Firewurme. He worked steadily, without fatigue. First he made mittens for his hands as they had done during the blizzard. Then, using the leather from one of the packs Mordu had given him, he constructed clumsy, makeshift overboots to wear on top of his own boots. Then he wrapped his body from head to toe in every spare bit of clothing they had with them.

Collun had seen the Wurme's sram turn the branch to a smear. It did not seem likely that even so many layers of padding would protect him for long, but the few extra moments they bought him could possibly make the difference between living and dying.

Brie watched silently as Collun made his preparations. She checked her own gear, plucking at the bow to ensure it was strung tight and feeling the tips of her arrows to test their sharpness.

***

Sometime after midnight and well before dawn, Collun called Fiain to him. He mounted first, with Brie climbing up behind. Earlier he had given Brie his wallet of herbs, tucking the shell Mealladh had given him inside.

The causeway was at low tide, and obeying Collun's gentle nudge, Fiain began to cross. Collun was sweating heavily underneath his layers of clothing. The torch he had made was clutched tightly in his damp, padded palm. In his other hand he carried a glowing fire stick with which he planned to light the torch.

The moon was not full and shone only faintly through the haze. In the eerie light they could just make out the outline of the Firewurme's body. When they had almost reached the shore of the island, they saw Naid's head rise. It watched them with its flat yellow eyes, the lids half-shut. The black tongue slid from one side of its wide mouth to the other.

As soon as Fiain's hooves hit the rocky surface of the island, Collun jumped off. He touched the Ellyl horse lightly on his hindquarters, sending him toward the cave.

Collun broke into a run, his layers of clothing making him clumsy and slow. As he ran toward the Firewurme, he tried to dodge the puddles of sram, but in some places they were too large. He landed flat in the middle of one. The ooze began melting through the bottom layer covering his feet. It made a soft hissing noise as it burned.

The Firewurme's head suddenly moved with a swiftness that took Collun by surprise. He looked up to see its face above him, the black tongue dangling not more than an arm's length from his shoulder. He heard a splat and a fizz as sram dripped onto the ground.