Holder of Lightning tc-1

by S L Farrell Неизвестный Автор

  Jenna's fingers loosened around the stone. They watched her hand drop back to her waist, watched her cradle the stiff, aching flesh to her abdomen.

  "I'm sorry, my Rl," she said, lowering her gaze so that she stared at the man's fat, sandal-clad feet below his cloca and hoping that her words sounded sufficiently apologetic. "I spoke too harshly. I… I'm still frightened by what happened yesterday, the attack by the Banrion's gardai."

  "Ah, that. ." The Ri nodded; his stance relaxed and his voice was now gentle. "An unfortunate occurrence, to be certain, but one that shows me that you are learning to use the cloch, eh?"

  She nodded. "Aye, my Ri."

  "Good," he said. She thought that he might pat her with a fatherly hand. The malice in her cloch-vision hadn't diminished, though; this was a man who would take her without a thought if he believed it to be to his advantage. There was no affection for her in his tone; only the satisfaction that came from watching her submit to his will. "Then we'll make our plans appropriately. Tiarna Gairbith will be in contact with you regarding the plans and I know Tiarna Mac Ard-" the Ri's gaze flicked over to Padraic and at the same time, Jenna saw the two of them in the cloch-vision, entangled in mutual webs of ambition and deceit "-will be help-ing us as well. I hope you understand, Holder Jenna, that we hold you in the highest esteem, and that everything we do here is for your benefit."

  He said the words with compassion gleaming in his voice and decep-tion in his heart.

  Jenna smiled at him and nodded.

  The mage-lights swirled in the night sky over the keep, and Jenna went to them. The bright communion was at once painful and joyous, and afterward Jenna staggered back into her room from the balcony, clutching her arm to herself, and half-fell into Maeve's arms. Her mam helped her back to her bed, where she sat, eyes closed, feeling only the power surging through her. "Anduilleaf," she managed to croak out. "Quickly."

  The water was already boiling, the leaf already crushed in the bottom of the mug. Jenna heard her mam pour the water and smelled the aroma of the leaf wafting through the cold air. "Here," Maeve said, and Jenna felt a warmth pressed against her left hand. She took the mug and lifted it to her lips, sipping noisily against the heat of the brew.

  "How many times more, Jenna?" There was a weary concern in her mam’s voice.

  "Is that what he wanted you to ask me?" Jenna answered. "Is he getting impatient to be a cloch Holder himself? You can tell him that it will be soon: two more appearances. Three, at most."

  Maeve ignored Jenna’s scornful tone. "And what then?"

  "I don’t know" Jenna answered heatedly. "If I did, I’d tell everyone so they’d stop asking these stupid questions of me."

  She glanced up to see her mam bite her lower lip, looking away with hurt in her eyes. "I ask because 1 hate to see you in pain, Jenna," Maeve answered, her voice trembling with the sob she held back.

  "I’ve been hoping that once the other clochs were open, you wouldn’t be… in so much. ." Maeve couldn’t finish. She covered her mouth with a hand, tears spilling over her eyes. Jenna wanted to go to her, to comfort her mam as she had comforted Jenna a thousand times over the years, but she couldn’t make herself move. She hid herself behind the mug of leaf-brew, sipping and inhaling the steam as she watched her mam sniff and blot her tears with the sleeve of her leine.

  Jenna could see the swelling curve of her mam’s belly. She could feel the life inside, glowing like a banked fire in a hearth.

  "Maybe," Maeve said, "Padraic should be the Holder." She wouldn’t look at Jenna. "Maybe that’s what should have happened."

  "Is that what Da would have wanted?" Jenna retorted. "Or have you already forgotten him and the fact that Lamh Shabhala was once his?"

  Maeve turned, her cloca flaring outward with the sharp motion. "I will "ever forget Niall. Never. And

  I can’t believe that you’d be cruel enough to even suggest that."

  Guilt made Jenna momentarily forget the throbbing coldness in her arm. "Mam, I’m sorry…"

  There was a tentative knock at the door and one of the servants stuck her head in. "Pardon, m’ladies, but Coelin Singer is here asking to see the Holder."

  Maeve was still glaring at Jenna. "Tell him he may

  come in," Jenna said. "In here, Holder?" the servant asked.

  "Do you not have ears?" Jenna snapped. "Aye, here. If the Tanaise Rig doesn’t like it, then he should have left his own people to stand guard."

  The servant looked at Maeve, who shrugged. "The Holder obviously doesn’t care to have anyone else suggest what she should do or question her commands."

  The servant fled.

  "Mam-" Jenna began, but then the door opened again and Coelin entered. His face was full of concern and question, but he seemed startled when he saw Maeve.

  "Oh, Widow Aoire," he said, nodding to Maeve and glancing once at Jenna questioningly. "I don’t mean to disturb…" He gestured at the door. "I can wait in the outer room."

  "Stay. Maybe you can talk some sense into the girl," Maeve said to Coelin. "I obviously can’t tell my daughter anything. She would rather learn from her own mistakes, I suppose. Just see that you’re not another one, Coelin Singer." Maeve didn’t turn back to look at Jenna, but walked out of the room. The sound of the door closing was loud in the apartment.

  "What was that about?" Coelin asked. "Jenna? I saw the lights, and thought that you might-"

  Jenna shook her head. "Don’t talk," she said. "Just. . come here. Please. Hold me."

  Coelin, with a glance back at the door, went to the bed in two long strides. He took Jenna up in his arms.

  "Kiss me," she said. "Make me forget about all this for a little bit. ."

  And, for a time, she did.

  Chapter 26: A World Changed

  DEER Creek ran at the bottom of a steep ravine. Above, to the north, was the city of Lar Bhaile; south rose the steep and stony flanks of Goat Fell with the Ri's Keep perched on top. Not far beyond the bridge that linked Low Town to Goat Fell and the ramparts of the keep, the creek widened and fanned out into a marsh-clogged mouth before flowing into Lough Lar. To Jenna's mind, Deer Creek was more river than creek, nearly twice as wide as the Mill Creek that ran past Ballintubber, deeper and faster.

  And Deer Creek had seals; one, at least: on a flat slab thrusting out of the rushing water, a dark, shiny-furred head watched as Jenna made her way down the path from the Ri's Market Square. Getting away from the keep had been easier than Jenna had expected. After the incident with the gardai, no one voiced an objection when she left the keep unescorted except by two chambermaids. Jenna noticed that another carriage de-parted the keep immediately after they left, and that the square seemed particularly well-populated with gardai. Jenna had opened the cloch slightly, letting its energy spread out over the square-there were at least a half dozen tendrils of attention leading to her, none of them overtly dangerous but all watching.

  And down in the hawthorn-choked ravine, another: O'Deoradhain.

  The chambermaids were easy: she gave each of them a morceint and told them to go buy whatever they liked. It took time to lose the gardai, but she eventually managed to lose all the watchers and sneak away to the wooden stairs leading down to Deer Creek and a small patch of meadow there where a few people sat fishing despite the cold. Jenna. stayed under the trees, moving east along the creek and away from the meadow, where someone glancing down from the market above wouldn't easily spot her. She saw movement out in the creek-the seal rose from the cold water and clambered onto one of the flat rocks in the middle of the stream.

  She could sense O'Deoradhain in the tangle of woods huddled against the steep bank. Jenna shivered and wrapped herself tighter in her cloca, one hand grasping the stone on its chain, ready to

  open it fully and strike the man down at need. "You could have at least picked a warm place to meet," she called out to where he hid.

  There was a rustle of dry brush and leaves, and O’Deoradhain stepped out. One arm was in a sling, but t
here was a knife at his belt, and Jenna watched his free hand carefully, knowing how quickly he could move with that weapon. She stayed ready to strike if his fingers strayed near the hilt. "If it were summer, the midges would be out. Would you rather be cold or bitten to death?"

  The seal out in the water gave a coughing roar, and Jenna glanced again at the creature. It was a large bull, its head up and alert and staring back at them. Its coat was coal-black, yet deep blue highlights gleamed within it, like sparks struck from a flint and steel. O’Deoradhain looked toward the seal as well. "There aren’t usually seals in Lough Lar," he said. "Some-times in Lough Dubh, aye, but they don’t usually come up the Duan this far."

  "For an Inishlander, you know a lot about Tuath Gabair."

  "I’ve been here a long time now," O’Deoradhain answered, turning away from the seal and looking back at Jenna. "Ever since the Order decided that Lamh Shabhala might be in Gabair. Almost two years now."

  Jenna cocked her head at that. "And how did you know that Lamh Shabhala was here before the mage-lights came?"

  O’Deoradhain shrugged, grimacing as his bandaged shoulder moved. "Some in the Order know the magics of earth and water, the slow eternal spells. I know a bit of them myself. Ordinarily, that means little, but as the Filleadh approached and the mage-lights started to strengthen even though none of us could see them yet, those with the skill could feel the resonance through their own spells. They knew and they started to search, and they realized that Lamh Shabhala had once been on Inishfeirm and that they had lost the cloch. It wasn’t hard, then, to know who had taken it-your great-da. What took time was discovering where he had gone and what had happened to him."

  "So they sent you? Alone?" Jenna scoffed. "Why didn’t they send every-one? Why isn’t Gabair filled with people from the Order?"

  O'Deoradhain gazed back placidly into her mocking stance. "If all of Inishfeirm suddenly came here, then everyone would suspect why and everyone would have been searching for the cloch. And there are only a few who are capable of being the Holder of Lamh Shabhala."

  The way he said it lifted the hairs on Jenna's arms with a sudden chill that was not the cold air. "A few like you?" she asked.

  O'Deoradhain nodded. "That's what I was trained to do." Jenna took a step back from him. "Jenna," he said. "Use the stone. Look at me. I'm not a threat to you. I'd take the stone from you if you gave it to me, aye. If you'd died the other day in my room, I'd have taken it then, too. But I won't harm you to become the Holder."

  That might have been true; she could feel no danger to herself emanat-ing from him. Yet… "I don't know that," she said. "Even with the cloch."

  O'Deoradhain smiled, which softened his rugged face. "You're right. You don't know that, and I'll tell you that there are ways to hide yourself from a cloch na thintri, even Lamh Shabhala."

  "And you know them."

  "I do."

  "Then I can't trust you."

  "Perhaps not," he answered. "But you can't survive alone. Not for long, and not with what you hold."

  "I have those I can trust," Jenna replied with some heat, and- strangely-O'Deoradhain chuckled at that.

  "Who? Mac Ard? The Ri and Banrion? That self-centered boy from your old village?"

  "He's not-" Jenna began heatedly, then stopped, clenching her jaw as O'Deoradhain studied her, as the seal out in the river gave another moan-ing wail as if calling for a mate. "What did you want of me, O'Deoradhain?"

  "Only what I told you: to bring you to Inishfeirm, so you can learn to use the power you hold."

  "I have learned," she retorted. "I wouldn't be talking to you now if I hadn't. Three times someone

  has tried to kill me and three times I've killed them instead. I can see with the cloch, see what people are feeling toward me. I can tell whether a person holds a true cloch or a worthless stone. I can draw the mage-lights down to me and fill the stone with their energy."

  "And did you need to kill them or even want to? Do you know that you see truth through the cloch? Do you know all Lamh Shabhala wants to do with that power or all it can do? Do you know how to deal with the pain Jenna?" She must have shown something in her face, unwillingly, for he nodded. "Aye, that we can help you learn. But you must come with me back to Inishfeirm."

  "I don't trust you," Jenna said again.

  "I know you don't. But you're trusting the wrong people now."

  "You don't know that."

  "Unfortunately, I do," he answered calmly. "But I also know that you must learn things yourself to believe them. Let me start you on that path. I've done some investigation myself. Go to Night Mist Alley, just off Cal-laghan Street. Walk down to the third door on the left, the red one, and knock. And after you've been there and returned to the keep, use the cloch. Look at the ones you haven't bothered to examine yet because you trust them. And when you're done, if you think you might begin to believe me, then come to du Val again. He can tell you where to find me."

  O'Deoradhain started to walk away; as if startled by his movement, the seal out in the river roared a last time and dove into the water with a soft splash. "O'Deoradhain, wait."

  "No, Holder. There's nothing more to say. Go and see things for your-self and ask the questions you need to ask. When you need me again, I'll find you." He smiled at her. "I wanted to be the Holder, aye," he said. "But I think Lamh Shabhala has chosen wisely on its own." With a wave, he slid back into the undergrowth again, and she heard the sound of his retreat.

  Out in the water, a dark shape slid away toward the lough.

  Night Mist Alley was a dirt lane in the Low Town area. Even in the sun-light, it was dim, with the

  houses staring at each other across a muddy strip down which two people could barely walk abreast. Children were screeching and chasing each other through the puddles, filthy and snot-faced, and the adults Jenna saw stared at the sight of an obvious Riocha and her two chambermaids out where the royalty rarely walked.

  The third door on the left was indeed red though the paint was scratched and peeling, and the door itself appeared to have been kicked, the lower panel cracked and bowed in. Jenna motioned to the maids to remain in the alley as she went to the door and knocked. There was no immediate answer. She knocked again. "Just a moment. ."a woman’s voice answered, and a few seconds later, the door opened. A woman blinked into the sunlight. "By the Mother-Jenna?"

  Ellia Tara’s daughter, stood there. Jenna nearly didn’t recognize her. She was heavy with child, one hand under the rounded bulk of her belly, face and fingers swollen. After her initial surprise, she smiled at Jenna.

  "By the Mother-Creator, look at you," she said. "Don’t you look wonderful! Oh Jenna, it’s so good to see you! Everyone thought you’d died when those horrible soldiers came. And to think you came here, like us."

  "Us?" A feeling of dread was filling Jenna. She wanted to rage, wanted to take Lamh Shabhala and bring a storm of lightning down on this house and this town and leave everything in flames.

  "Aye." A possessive, triumphant smile lifted Ellia’s lips. She turned slightly to call back into the darkness of the room. "Darling, come and see who’s come to visit us. You’re not going to believe this."

  A sleepy grunt came from the interior. Jenna heard the sound of shuf-fling feet, then a man’s form showed behind Ellia as she opened the door wider. The man took a step into the light. She knew who it was before she saw him, knew from the leaden stone that filled her stomach, knew because of the blackness that threatened to take her vision. Her world was suddenly shattered, crashing in crystalline shards around her.

  Coelin.

  Ellia’s arm snaked possessively around Coelin’s

  waist as he gaped at Jenna. "Look, love-it's Jenna! Back from the dead! Jenna, did you know that Coelin has sung for the Rl himself. .?"

  Ellia must have continued to speak, but Jenna heard none of it. She stared at Coelin. He stared back, slack-jawed, rubbing at his eyes as if trying to rid them of a sudden nightmare. "Jenna, I…" he stammered,
but Jenna shouted back at him in fury.

  "You bastard! You damned lying bastard!" Jenna turned and ran from the alleyway, her maids hurrying after her with wide-eyed glances behind.

  "Jenna!" she heard Coelin shouting behind her, and Ellia's now-shrill voice asking him what was happening. Jenna fled, helpless tears hot on her cheeks, unheeding of the people around her, staring. She only wanted to be away before the temptation to use the cloch grew too strong, before she gave in to the temptation to get revenge for this awful deception. It's your own fault! she railed inside. You're so stupid. So naive and stupid. .

  “Jenna!" A hand touched her shoulder and she whirled around with a cry, her right hand going to the stone around her neck, the radiance of Lamh Shabhala between her fingers already brighter than the sun. Coelin, Panting, took a step backward from Jenna, his eyes wide. He was shoeless and half-dressed, his feet muddy, his legs bare under his tunic. His breath was a white cloud around him in the cold air. He spread his hands wide, as if to ward off a blow. "Jenna, listen to me. ."

  Her chambermaids flanking her, Jenna chopped at the air with her left hand. "You have nothing to say to me!" she shouted back at him. "Nothing! You disgust me, Coelin Singer. And I'm ashamed of myself for letting you. ." She couldn't say the words. Fury obliterated them.

  "Jenna, let me explain!"

  "Explain what? Is that your child Ellia's carrying? Tell me now-is it?" Coelin started to shake his head, started to speak, and Jenna lifted the cloch. "Don't you dare lie to me again, Coelin, or I swear it's the last words you'll ever speak."

  Coelin gulped and hung his head. "Aye," he said, his voice a whisper. "Tis mine." Then his head came up, and his green eyes gazed at her imploringly. "But, Jenna, I love you. ."

  "Shut up!" Jenna screamed at him. Light flared from her fisted hand, and shadows moved over the buildings around them. Someone shouted in alarm, and the curious crowd that had begun to gather around the encounter suddenly vanished. "No!

  Don’t you dare say it. Who arranged this, Coelin? None of this was an accident, was it? Who made certain I’d find you, who told you to seduce me?" When Coelin said nothing, Jenna stamped her foot, the light flaring yet brighter. "Tell me!"