Fire Arrow (34 page)

Unlike yourself, Brie thought, for she knew, as he knew, he would have little trouble finding favor in Medb's eyes again, with his golden vanity and his seductive power. She slipped her fingers into the pocket that held the moon shell and pulled it out slowly, almost unmindfully. She heard an odd clanking sound, as though Balor were taking off some part of his golden armor.

"Will not Bricriu tell Medb you intended to betray her?" Brie wondered if Balor still had his eye-patch off.

"Who do you think Queen Medb will believe?" he replied contemptuously.

You, thought Brie.

"Now..." He moved toward her.

Brie quickly slid the moon shell into the piece of cloth from her hand and, abruptly lifting it above her head as she would a slingshot, she snapped the shell toward where she guessed Balor's head to be.

He screamed: a high-pitched foul noise infused with outrage and disbelief; a rending, piercing scream. And then something heavy knocked against her. She lost her footing and fell to the stones.

Something was lying across Brie's legs. She reached a tentative hand out and found a face, Balor's face. There was a sticky wetness on his cheek and her hand recoiled, but not before feeling the moon shell, which was lodged in his right eye, the white eye.

Quickly, fighting down a violent hysteria, she pulled her legs free of Balor's lifeless body. Half fainting, she tried to crawl away, but her burnt hand stung fiercely and would not bear her weight. She tried crawling on her elbows, but lost all sense of direction. She did not even know she was heading toward the sea until a large wave came up and slammed into her face. Coughing, she started crawling backward, but her arm brushed against something. She reached for it. It was an arrow.

The fire arrow.

She knew what it was from the shape of the arrowhead and the placement of the damp fietching feathers, but there was no humming in her fingers when she held it. Its draoicht was gone.

She knew that she should feel something, that in another lifetime she would have grieved, but her body was too battered, her senses too numb. She just stuck the arrow into the back of her belt and kept crawling.

"Fara," she whispered, but there came no response, just the sound of the waves and the occasional whooshing of moths.

Brie blindly crawled back and forth over the beach until finally she touched a heap of damp fur and moths flew up in her face in a great rush.

"Fara," she whispered, feeling for a heartbeat. The faol was alive, but unconscious. Brie lay next to her, stroking the fur along her back until she, too, lost consciousness.

***

Above, the summer sun shimmered and before her spread a dappled rainbow of brilliant colors. Collun stood beside her, proud, his hand resting lightly on her arm. "See the dahlias," he said, pointing. "Like gold.
"

"
I've never seen larkspur that tall," Brie said in wonder.

"
Come see the cosmos, and the harebell...
"

Brie followed Collun through the magnificent garden, the colors and the sun blinding her. "Wait for me," she called after him. He was too far ahead; she lost sight of him in the riot of greens and reds and yellows and blues. "Collun!" she cried.

***

Then Brie woke. She was lying across Ciaran's back, moving through the forest. But she still could not see.

"Ciaran? Where is Fara?"

Beside us,
came the Ellyl horse's voice, inside Brie's head.
Her leg is broken, but she came and found me. Brought me to you.

"How...?"

She dragged you onto my back by the collar.
Ciaran gave a brief whinny-laugh.

"I can't see, Ciaran."

I know.

There was silence for several minutes, then,
Brie.

"Yes?"

Collun is awake.

Brie's heart contracted. "Is he...?"

He is as he was.

A great exhausted happiness filled Brie, and her sightless eyes pricked with tears of joy.

The company finally departed the north of Dungal a week later. At their camping place by the forest, they left behind several fresh burial mounds topped with memory stones for those whose battle wounds had finally overtaken them. There was a sense of loss among those who departed, but the enemy had been destroyed and they were returning home.

Collun was still weak but able to ride on his own. Hanna's wound was healing nicely, and Monodnock rode right up at the front of the company telling anyone who would listen of his brilliance in the final battle, as if he himself had woven and wielded the magic fishing net.

Brie wore bandages over her eyes, to give them a chance to rest and heal. But when she lifted the bandages and looked toward the sun, the blackness was not quite so black. Both Hanna and Aelwyn had said that, with time, her eyesight would return to normal.

Before departing their campsite, Brie had insisted on returning to the beach to give a proper burial to Balor. A handful of companions, including Hanna, Collun, and Silien, accompanied Brie, and despite what she had told them of the size of the morg fleet, they were stunned by the enormous amount of debris that had been washed up on the white stones. Brie listened silently as Collun described the grisly scene to her.

They buried Balor on the bluff, building a small cairn of white stones to mark the place. Hanna found a smooth stone and, though sightless, Brie managed to etch on it the name Balor. The single word and the small heap of stones seemed enough.

At her request the others left her alone at the cairn. She knelt there, thinking of the lifeless body underneath, drained of the power he had once wielded so effortlessly. Balor had taken much from her—her father, her childhood—until finally the balance had come undone. And it had taken the fire arrow and the small shell of a sorcerer to set it right again.

As they crossed the battlefield where so many had fallen, Brie thought of Sago. She tried to summon up a picture of the Sea Dyak sorcerer sitting by his perfect lake, a basket full of fish beside him, a smile on his face, and a riddling song on his lips. For a moment she could make out a hazy image, but it faded quickly.

Brie thought of the vivid pictures the fire arrow had once shown her. But ever since the arrow had washed up on the beach, emptied of its draoicht, Brie had also felt an emptiness in herself. There was no more tingling on the skin of her fingers, no more dreams or seeings. Whatever draoicht the fire arrow had stirred in her was gone. She felt a grief, akin to losing a close-bound friend, yet it had been an unruly, sometimes uncomfortable friend.

***

It rained a good deal as the survivors wound their way south, as though making up for the drought of the summer. The army dwindled as the Dungalans returned to their villages and families. Word of the battle and of Balor's defeat spread quickly. By the time they reached Cerriw, Aelwyn's village, the story of Bren-huan and her fire arrow destroying the morg fleet was already known by most of the villagers. The company was given a warm welcome and was urged to stay for feasting and celebration, but they remained only one night; most among them were eager to return to their own families and loved ones.

In Cerriw, Brie took the bandages off her eyes. Her vision was still blurred, but color had returned.

When Aelwyn the wyll bid Collun a lingering, over-enthusiastic good-bye, Brie could see well enough to notice the faint blush in Collun's cheeks. But when she stepped forward to bid her own farewell to the wyll, Aelwyn slipped a small pouch into Brie's hand. The wyll whispered in her ear, "Take these. You don't want to die unwed after all." Inside the pouch was a pair of glittering saphir earrings.

Brie smiled. "Thank you, Aelwyn."

 

Silien and Monodnock had decided to journey together to Tir a Ceol, though Brie could tell Silien was less than enthusiastic about his companion. Indeed, as they headed off together, Brie overheard Monodnock say, "Perhaps your father might see fit to grant me a posting that is less remote, something closer to the epicenter, if you will, of King Midir's court?"

Silien replied, straight-faced, "Oh, undoubtedly, my father will indeed wish to reward you, Monodnock; for example, he may even place you as one of the leaders of the Ellyl army, to lead Ellyl troops on missions of the utmost danger."

Monodnock paled. "Oh, well, I was not exactly thinking of so great an honor. Indeed, I should be happy with just a modest dwelling, not too terribly far from court..."

"Or perhaps he will make you a spy, sent undercover into Rathcroghan to ferret out Queen Medb's latest plottings. There is no higher honor than the position of spy."

"That would indeed be a great accolade," Monodnock stuttered, his hands frenziedly plucking at his spiky hair, "but the more I think on it, I believe I should miss my little home in the Blue Stack Mountains too much. And indeed, it is an important posting; you never know when the gabha might start stirring up trouble again..."

Brie laughed as the two Ellylon rounded a bend and their voices passed out of hearing.

***

They left Ralfe at Sedd Brennhin. Though rumors were circulating that Prince Durwydd would no longer rule (this did not appear to be ill news for the majority of Dungalans, who thought a great deal more highly of Ralfe than they did of their prince), the grizzled adviser still held off confirming the news.

"I wish to ensure that the succession goes smoothly," Ralfe explained. "Messengers will be sent at once to the village of Pennog, where Durwydd's royal cousin lives. Indeed, if you stay in Dungal, Bren-huan, I am certain that the boy prince would welcome you as a member of the court."

Brie thanked Ralfe, but told him that she planned to return to her home in Eirren. He nodded his understanding, invited her to the new prince's coronation should she still find herself in Dungal, and wished her luck.

Now why did I say "home," Brie thought wryly as she rode off, when I have nothing of the sort?

Tir a Ceol,
came Ciaran's voice in her head.

"I'll thank you not to eavesdrop," Brie retorted with a grin. "And last time I looked, Tir a Ceol was
your
home, not mine."

***

They arrived in Ardara to find that the sumog had vanished, along with the innkeeper of the Speckled Trout. Again they were urged to stay by the grateful villagers, but Brie said they must move on. Despite the warmth of their welcome, she felt uncomfortable in Ardara. It was almost too painful to stay in this place where she did not belong but loved so well. The Storm Petrel lay on the shore, in need of repair after Jacan and Ferg's long absence, and though she would have given much for one last time on its decks, Brie thought it was probably just as well if she didn't return to the sea.

Before they left Ardara, Brie went to Sago's mote with Hanna. The villagers had decided to keep it as it was, a haven for seabirds and a memorial for the fallen Sea Dyak sorcerer.

Someone—Hyslin, no doubt—had tidied up the inside of the mote, and as Brie gazed around at the dim, wavery green interior, sorrow gusted up in her. Hanna put a strong arm around her shoulders. "Why do you not take something of his, as a remembrance?"

Brie gazed around at the shelves full of his sea treasures. She spied a large cluster of moon shells. "You can never have too many moon shells" echoed in her head. She reached out her hand, then hesitated, remembering the feel of the moon shell lodged in Balor's white eye.

"'Oona, moona, mollopy, mite...,"' came Hanna's voice, chanting the counting-out rhyme, "'bimini, jimini, reena..."' Brie smiled and instead remembered the moon shell in Sago's palm as he presented it to her. She picked out a small shell and placed it in her pocket.

As they left the mote, Brie spotted Hela, Lom's boat, out on the water. Lom was at the tiller and Brie could just make out Maire standing near the prow. Brie felt Hanna's eyes on her. "I'm thinking there may be another wedding in Ardara before Cynheafu," Brie said, her voice level.

***

Brie and Collun traveled with Hanna to the havotty where she was to meet the sheep farmer Tharda. When the time came to say good-bye to Hanna, Brie felt sorrow settle on her like a mantle; it made her feel heavy and stupid, without words. She looked into Hanna's face and saw that the older woman's eyes were a deep, bottomless gray. Tears pricked Brie's eyelids and she looked away. Her glance fell on Collun, who had stepped away while they said their good-byes. He was being butted rather forcefully by a black-faced mountain sheep, who mistook him for a rival, and Collun was unsuccessfully trying to fend the animal off, an aggrieved look on his face. Jip bounded at the sheep on one side, and Fara jostled it from the other side. The hapless sheep began bleating frantically. Brie suddenly smiled.

"Biri," came Hanna's voice. She was holding out a book for Brie. "Take this with you."

"But this is your havotty book," Brie protested, glancing at the title. It was a book about Fionna.

"I do not need it. I have enough books here," she said, gesturing at her head.

"Thank you," said Brie, taking the book. Hanna leaned, over and they held each other tightly for a moment. "I will miss you, Hanna."

"And I you," Hanna said gently, releasing Brie. "But you will be back, Bren-huan."

"Perhaps," Brie replied, doubtful.

"No. You
will
return."

"The hiraeth?" Brie asked. She recalled the long-ago conversation with Aelwyn about the heartsickness that exiled Dungalans feel. "Like a knife in the heart," Aelwyn had said.

"Yes, hiraeth, and because you are queen."

Brie smiled. "Little queen. It is just a name, Hanna."

Hanna shook her head, face serious. "No. You are queen. Sago knew. And Yldir. Seila
is
Fionna."

Brie stared at Hanna. "No."

"When Queen Fionna disappeared, she must have gone to Eirren and had a family. There is a story there. When you return, you will tell it to me."

Brie shook her head.

"Yes, Biri," responded Hanna matter-of-facdy, "when the time comes, you will return to Dungal, as queen."