Holder of Lightning

For several seconds, there was no sound but the wind and the faint crash of the waves far below, though her ears still rang with the furious sound of the clochs. Jenna blinked into the starlight above Bethiochnead. Mac Ard was lying on the ground a few feet away. She went to him, looking down into the open, staring, sightless eyes. His mouth was open, his chest still. Kneeling beside the body, she closed his eyes and took the Cloch Mor from his fisted hand.

"This," she said, "was never yours."

Jenna straightened. The movement made her momentarily dizzy, and she had to close her eyes to stop the world from spinning around her. She wanted nothing more than to collapse. But she couldn't. Not yet. Not here.

Only the dregs of the mage-energy were left. Lamh Shabhala couldn't take her back to Dun Kiil or return Mac Ard's corpse. She lifted her head, looking toward the moonlit oaks ringing the cliffside. "Protector Loman!" she called. "I know you're there watching. Step out!" There was no answer for several breaths and she started to call again. Then two figures emerged from the shadows and began walking slowly toward her, one of them leaning on an oaken staff. The Bunus Muintir stopped several feet from her.

"Holder," Loman said, but Jenna's eyes were on the boy with him, who would not look at her directly though she saw him glance with fright at the broken statue before sending his gaze back to the ground. She had expected Toryn to be with the old Protector, but this boy was blond and no more than fourteen, far younger than Toryn.

"Where’s your apprentice?" Jenna asked Loman.

"Toryn is… gone," Loman answered. His scraggly beard sagged as he frowned, and the boy with him shuddered. "When I learned what he had done to Seancoim Crow-Eye and you, I sent him to the oaks, the Old Ones. He feeds their roots now. I’m sorry, Holder. Seancoim was right; I chose poorly and taught badly for Toryn to do such a thing. Aye, I would gladly have allowed him take Lamh Shabhala if you’d failed in the Scrudu, but to kill Seancoim and to try to take the cloch by force…" He shook his head, grimacing. "I’m sorry if I’ve cheated you out of the revenge you might have wanted for that."

Jenna gave a laugh that sounded more like a cough. She gestured at the body between them. "I think, Protector, that I’ve had my fill of revenge."

The apprentice visibly brightened at that statement, venturing a small smile. Loman hummed, clearing his throat; his breath wheezed asthmatically. "Holder," he said. "How can I help you?"

"You know the way to the nearest Daoine village?"

A nod.

Jenna pointed again to Mac Ard. "Good. I know that you also know herb lore: I want you to treat this body so that it can make a long journey then take it to that village. Tell them there that the Comhairle wishes the tiarna’s body returned safely to Dun Kiil. That’s all. Consider it a partial payment for your poor choice of apprentice."

His eyes glared, a flash of irritation that he hid almost immediately "it will take several days to do as you ask," Loman answered.

"I don’t care," Jenna told him. "Do it." Neither of the Bunus Muintir moved. Neither of them seemed to want to be near her. Jenna lifted the cloch.

"Now," she said.

For an instant, she wondered if Loman, like Toryn, might try to use the slow magic against her.

But the ancient Bunus snarled something to his apprentice in their own language and the younger man moved quickly over to Mac Ard's corpse. He picked it up, draping the tiarna's body over his shoulder. His back bowed under the burden, he walked away toward the trees. "This will be good for the young one here. He has much to learn, and I… well, I don't have a great deal of time left to teach him." Loman bowed to Jenna, bending stiffly from the waist. "There is a cavern nearby where you can stay, Holder, until the body's prepared."

"I have my own way home," she told him. "Just do as I've asked." Loman nodded silently at that and turned to follow his new apprentice into the forest. Jenna watched until they had gone.

She wanted to sleep, to give in to the exhaustion and pain. But she forced herself to walk down the slope, away from Bethiochnead to where the cliffs lowered and she could find a way down to the water. She clam-bered down over the slippery rocks until the salt spray of the waves touched her face, refreshing her. The moon dappled the ocean as she stood on the rocks at the water's edge.

Not far out from the shore, a dark body lifted its head above the waves. Jenna heard the grunting cough of a seal. She brushed her fingers against Lamh Shabhala. There was barely enough power remaining. "Thraisha. .?" Jenna whispered hopefully into the wind, feeling the presence of Bradan an Chumhacht there.

"Not Thraisha," a voice said, the words sounding in her head as her ears heard more throaty gruntings. "Garrentha."

"Garrentha. I thought for a moment… "