Keeper Of The Light (28 page)

Rioghan did not have to see Coiteann’s hands to know that she was coating the amulet with more of Donaill’s own blood. She was adding the power of stolen blood, taken by violence and deception, to the amulet’s own considerable strength. Coiteann pressed the amulet hard into his back with one hand and held the blade out with the other, pointing it directly at Rioghan. “Now we will go home,” she said in a hiss, and turned Donaill away.

Standing in the road, watching them go, Rioghan tried desperately to think of one more thing she could do, one more effort she could make, to release Donaill from this terrible spell. There must be something. Something!

She clenched her fists in frustration. It would take power. Great power. Where could she hope to get power enough to—

Scath came to stand close by her side, and Cogar soon followed. They stood beside her in the dark and misty road, waiting patiently for her to choose which way she would go.

Power. There was no greater power than that of a loyal living creature that had devoted its life to her. There was no doubt that the power of its sacrificed life, running in a river of red over the cursed amulet, would let her break that spell once and for all.

Cold with shock, Rioghan turned away from the horror of such thoughts, turned and ran down the road toward the quiet and peace of Sion. “Scath! Cogar! Come with me! Come with me! Come…”

The two dogs ran with her, happy to be going home. After a moment she slowed and stopped, and they came to her, wagging their tails and licking her hands and greeting her as they always did.
Never could I do such a thing…never will any harm come to any of you. Never again will I walk the dark path. I am a keeper of the light, not a wielder of death and pain.

She turned one last time toward Cahir Cullen. Donaill and Coiteann, her hand still pressed hard against his back, had nearly reached the open gate.

“Donaill!” Rioghan cried. “Donaill! You must come to the stone circle at dawn on the winter solstice! I can do no more for you unless you can find your way there! You must come at dawn on the winter solstice! I will be there waiting for you!”

The gate slammed shut behind them, echoing into the cold and misty night.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Three more nights went by. Rioghan stayed close to her home, leaving only long enough to return the animal bones, the broken dagger, the stone, and the tree roots to their proper place beneath the unspoiled earth.

She could only do her best to make right what she had done, for it was well-known that dark magic had a way of turning back on those who dared to use it. Any cruelty used in the pursuit of power would result in far greater cruelty being visited on the wielder.

Rioghan had not herself done harm to the little creature which had died here, but she had tried to use the essence of its cruel and painful death for her own ends. Now she returned the remains of the hare to the earth where it could rest peacefully and undisturbed, putting things to right as best she could and leaving all as it was meant to be.

At last she returned to Sion and tried to prepare for what was to come on the morning of the winter solstice, when she would have one last chance to free Donaill from Coiteann’s curse…and she tried not to think of what she would do if the sun rose that morning and Donaill did not come.

As the night sky cleared to starry black, Rioghan walked in silence to the ring of nine standing stones. In her hands was a single white candle with a bright piece of holly at its base.

The soft light of the candle shone on her hooded face, but there was no one here to see it…no one but the Sidhe keeping watch from the forest, as they always did, and her dogs, lying quietly beyond the trees.

She reached the center of the circle and stood facing the north, toward Cahir Cullen, toward Donaill. She faced the north, raised her face to the stars, and began to sing.

It was a song with words so ancient that none knew who had created them, and it was in a language that no one in Eire spoke anymore. But Rioghan knew that the timeless words spoke of love and longing, and of desire that could never be denied. And so she sent her song to Donaill, and sent all of her love and longing for him with it.

By the time the song was done, the stars had turned only a little in the sky. The candle in her hands had burned perhaps a quarter of the way down. But when she looked out toward the deep pine forest, she realized that the Sidhe were parting their ranks and moving back from the hidden path.

The dogs rose up, lining the other side of the clearing and looking intently toward the path, but all of them remained silent. A few even wagged their tails.

There, walking from the path into the clearing of the stone circle, was Donaill.

He had done it. He had broken away from Coiteann and her curse. But…

The dogs lowered their heads. They began to growl and show their teeth. And then Coiteann came tearing out of the brush, a stitched cloak of furs hastily pinned around her against the cold, her long blond hair disheveled and wild from being snatched and pulled by the branches of the pines.

She was nearly too enraged to speak. Her face was pale with anger, her eyes narrowed with hate. “Donaill!” she cried. “Donaill, you will come home with me now! Come back now; come home where you belong!”

He paid her no attention at all. He walked slowly and steadily between two of the standing stones of the circle, gazing at the little candle Rioghan held, and as he came to stand in front of her he looked directly into her eyes.

“You have come home,” Rioghan whispered. She started to lower the candle, but then drew back as Coiteann threw herself hard against Donaill’s back.

“Come back! Come back!” she cried, her tangled hair falling in her face as she shoved her hand hard against his shoulders, as if she wanted to drive the poisoned amulet right through him. She struck him again and again. “Come back! Come back!”

Slowly Donaill turned to face her, catching her wrist with one hand and holding it immobile. Coiteann twisted and squirmed but was held fast in the iron grip.

With his free hand, Donaill reached up to his neck and found the rusted iron chain. With great effort, he lifted the heavy, evil thing up over his head and took it off; then he held it out toward Coiteann.

Her eyes widened as she saw the dark
luaidhe
stone hovering near her. “Get it away from me. Get it away!” she wailed, trying to turn away from it. “Get it away! Don’t do this to me! Don’t—”

But Donaill held her wrist so strongly that Rioghan feared it would snap. As she struggled, he dropped the chain with the cursed stone over Coiteann’s head and around her neck.

Coiteann shrieked, tearing at the chain as if it burned, and then fell to the ground as Donaill released her. Lifting herself to her hands and knees, she tried to stand, but the stone seemed so heavy she could barely raise her head.

She got hold of the rusted iron chain, frantically digging her fingers under it, but was entirely unable to lift it. In a moment she collapsed to the damp and muddy grass.

Clawing at the chain and gasping for breath, Coiteann rolled onto her back, held down by the evil stone on her chest. Her hands fell open against the earth and she stared up at the black night sky, unable to do anything but open her mouth and struggle for air.

Just like the dog, Rioghan realized. Just like the poor, unfortunate dog that Coiteann had forced to breathe its last upon the stone. Now she was suffering in the same way, feeling the breath forced out of her body and living through the overwhelming terror that went with such a death.

Rioghan started to go to her, but Donaill held out his arm to block her way. He shook his head, and Rioghan stood beside him. She could only watch as Coiteann lay flat on the ground, making a terrible whistling sound as she fought to breathe and waited to die.

But she did not die. Before long, the whistling stopped. Rioghan saw that Coiteann still lived and could breathe normally now. But she still could not move, pinned to the ground by the weight of the
luaidhe
stone. By the wavering light of the candle Rioghan could see her already pale skin becoming whiter and whiter, until it looked as white as death.

With a chill Rioghan knew that Coiteann was paying nature’s price for taking blood not her own. It was as if the amulet drew out the essence of her own blood and took it into itself, leaving her as pale and as weak as though her blood had actually been drained away.

The woman lay motionless, a white shadow on the dark earth. Rioghan took a step toward her, holding out the candle, and caught her breath as she saw the deathly white skin begin to take on a gray pallor.

The dull gray spread throughout Coiteann’s skin, and even through her hair and fingernails, until she was no longer fair and blond but as rough and gray as ash—the burned-out ash from Donaill’s hearth, which she had stolen and then used to coat the cursed stone.

Rioghan’s candle flickered and went out.

Donaill lowered his arm. Rioghan set down the candle and then went over to crouch down beside Coiteann.

She was alive, and would remain so, but the soft light of the stars showed Rioghan the dull, sickening gray pallor that had invaded Coiteann’s skin and hair. And it was not just the color. Coiteann looked old and worn far beyond her years.

Rioghan looked down at her. “The cruelty you have done is now evident in your face, and your skin, and your eyes, and your hair, for all the world to see. It will remain with you for the rest of your days, the natural result of the darkness you tried to wield.

“You saw no wrong in what you did. You wished to have a man, and none would begrudge you that; most women long for a man to be their mate and companion. But you chose the cruelest of ways to get one. You tried to steal him from a woman who already loved him…first a man from Sabha, and then one from me.

“Now the hurt and suffering you have caused your sisters will be a mark on you that will never be erased. You will serve as a warning to all those who think there is no harm in stealing a little of a man’s attention, when he is already loved by and bonded to another.”

Rioghan reached out for the cold, rusted iron chain around Coiteann’s neck, raised the woman’s head a little from the ground, and lifted the heavy chain and stone away from her. Coiteann groaned, and stirred a little, and slowly sat up.

“Get up, Coiteann,” Rioghan said, stepping back from her. “Get up and make your way back to Cahir Cullen. No doubt they will let you stay and continue to work among the servants…but no man there, or anywhere, will ever look at you again.”

Without a word, without a look, Coiteann got to her feet, pulled her fur cloak close around her rough and ashen skin, and walked with her head down and her dull hair hanging until she disappeared into the forest. In a moment she was gone.

Rioghan closed her eyes and breathed a great sigh of relief. It was over. The curse had been broken. Now Donaill would be free to stay with her, only with her, to look into her eyes and see no one else, be forced to think of no one else.

She turned to him and looked up into his eyes, and then tried to take him into her arms…but he stood immobile, as unresponsive as a stone anchored to the earth. As her arms fell away from his sides Rioghan knew that Coiteann’s curse still lay heavy on Donaill.

With the last of his will, Donaill slowly turned so that his back was toward her, and then stood unmoving and unseeing once more.

Quickly Rioghan threw aside his heavy red cloak to look at him—and her mouth dropped open in horror.

Even in the faint predawn light she could see the dark and hideous black stain on his skin between his shoulder blades, left there by the deeply cursed and monstrously heavy
luaidhe
stone. So long as that stain was still there, the power of the curse would still control Donaill…and as Rioghan ran her fingers over his skin, careful to avoid the ugly mark, it seemed to her that the stain reached far down through his skin and flesh and seeped all the way to the bone.

How could she hope to fight such evil? She rested her forehead against his shoulder, reaching up to hold tight to his arm with her hand. And then, almost imperceptibly, he flexed the muscles of his arm, as if trying to reach for her but being held fast against doing so.

Rioghan straightened, still holding his arm. He had done his part by getting here to the circle, but he could do no more on his own. She would have to finish it for him, if there was to be any help for Donaill at all.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Rioghan stepped away from Donaill. She tried to think of what must be done next, of what she would have to do to lift such a deep and terrible curse from one she loved…but found that all she could do was struggle to control her own rising emotions.

A small motion at the edge of the clearing made her look up. The gray-cloaked Sidhe were moving out of the forest to stand just outside the ring of stones, each one holding a stick of pine. Their words came back to her now:

…
tears of sorrow, wept for his loss by one who loves him.

…
bring a wild creature willingly to your side as you stand within the stone circle, and allow its breath to touch the amulet.

…
a flame kindled with the crystal you wear over your heart, for a
crystal is like a living piece of the earth. It has beauty, constancy, and longevity—just as a true love has.