Fire Arrow

SEVENTEEN

Return to Ardara

Brie looked down at her hands; they looked dirty and she rubbed at them, though she had just washed them in the lake with Monodnock's soap, two, three times.

"Why did you come here?" she whispered.

Collun turned away. "When I was at the royal dun in Temair, there were visitors, neighbors of your aunt and uncle. They told of your stay at Dun Slieve and of your subsequent departure for the north and the mountains. Then word came of creatures called gabha who had attacked a farmhold along the way into the Blue Stacks. I was concerned and thought to journey there, but was told the mountains were impassable. I spent the winter in Temair with my sister."

"How is Nessa?" asked Brie quickly.

"Well, thank you," he replied politely. The cadence of his voice was stilted, formal, as if she were a stranger with whom he was exchanging pleasantries.

"Near winter's end the Ellyl horse Ciaran came to Temair. Through Fiain she conveyed the message that she believed you to be in danger. Ciaran, Fiain, and I made our way through the Blue Stacks, fending off several goat-men as we went. I had thought to journey to the village of Ardara, where your trail led, but Ciaran pushed us straight north.

"She was unerring, insistent, but I confess I came to feel the whole thing a fool's errand. Then, not long ago, something happened. I was sitting by the campfire when suddenly I heard you calling me. Your voice, clear as a bell, if you will pardon the expression." Brie smiled, but Collun did not smile back.

"It was so real that I actually stood up and looked around the campfire. And then I saw you. Only it wasn't you; that is, your edges were blurry and there was gold around you. And then you were gone, just like that. But for a moment I could see a large tower in the middle of a lake. Then everything faded. I looked at the map of Dungal I had brought with me from Temair. And there was a lake, very near to where we were. It did not take us long to reach the lake and the tower.

"It was Ciaran who led us over that confounded path in the water and Ciaran who broke the door down."

"How?"

"When that big crack appeared, she just flew out with her hooves, right in the center of it. The door split open and there you were.

"What happened to you in the bell tower, Brie?" he asked, and for just a moment she heard an echo of the old gentle voice she remembered so vividly. Strangely her eyes pricked with tears. Running her hand through her wet hair, she answered, making her voice brisk.

"I was a prisoner, a sorcerer's prisoner. Balor is his name. He turns out to be a cousin of mine."

Collun stared at her. "Cousin?"

"It is a long tale; I have not the heart for it now. But Balor is planning to invàde and overthrow Dungal, with Eirren not far behind. The people of Dungal must be warned. There may still be time to raise an army." There was color in her cheeks and her hands were clenched.

"I see," said Collun.

"Is Hanna strong enough to travel?"

"I am," the older woman said, coming up behind. "And if what you say is true, we must leave at once." She was pale, but her eyes held strength. "Where is this sorcerer now?" she asked.

"I do not know. North, he said, to marshal his forces."

"He must have a stronghold of some kind. Did he say anything else?"

Brie shook her head. "Wait, yes ... He said something about going to meet a sea serpent."

Hanna's eyes darkened with a puzzled expression. "Serpent," she said, musing. "Where is that wizard's map of yours?" she asked abruptly.

Brie handed her Crann's map, with a sidelong glance at Collun.

"I seem to recall hearing of a rock formation, far north, lying off the coast, that bears a resemblance to a wurme or serpent." The older woman ran her finger along the line of Dungal's coast on the map.

"Ah," she breathed. "Carreg-sarff. Here, as I thought." She pointed to a cluster of dots on the map. "Perhaps the villain Balor has chosen Sedd Wydyr as his stronghold."

"Sedd Wydyr?"

"It is an ancient fortress, built by one of Dungal's first queens. She used the native white stone as well as crystal-bearing rocks of far-off Gledna to build her castle. The royal family had considerable draoicht in those days, but it was still a magnificent feat of workmanship. It was said that when the sunlight shone on Sedd Wydyr it glittered so brightly as to bring blindness on those who beheld it. It also went, by the name Crystal Castle."

"It sounds like a dwelling that would suit Balor," Brie said dryly.

"I have not traveled that far north so I have not seen Sedd Wydyr, but even if it still stands, it would be in ruins."

"Like your ancient queen, Balor has considerable draoicht," Brie replied. "I am sure he has restored the crystal castle and that it glitters even brighter than before."

***

Both Hanna's mare and the bay horse Araf had bolted when the bell began to toll, so Hanna rode with Brie on Ciaran. They decided to go directly to Sedd Brennhin, the royal seat of Dungal, to tell Prince Durwydd himself of the threat to Dungal. Hanna had met the prince on several occasions and felt sure of an audience.

But as they began moving up the bluff, away from the lake, Brie felt uneasy, torn. A curious tingling had begun on her hands, not unlike the humming of the fire arrow.

"Bother," Brie muttered. "The arrow is gone," she told herself sternly.

"What?" asked Hanna from behind.

"Nothing," Brie replied. The Ellyl horse hesitated, giving a low whinny.

Suddenly Brie laid her hand on Ciaran's neck. "The lake," she whispered. And the horse wheeled and headed back to the lake.

"Brie?" Collun called after her. But Brie did not hear.

When they reached the lakeshore, Brie dismounted and began walking along the water's edge. Clouds had come up, blanketing the sun. The water was very still. Brie strained to see into it, to see the broken tower and, somewhere among the mountain of jagged stone, the fire arrow. But all she saw was her own face reflected back at her, drawn and desolate. Collun's face appeared beside hers.

"What do you seek, Brie?"

"An arrow."

"Can you not make more arrows?"

"No," Brie said impatiently, eyes focused on the water.

"Son of Cuillean," called Hanna, still astride Ciaran. Collun moved back to Hanna, who spoke to him in a low voice.

Brie paid no attention to them and continued to walk beside the lake, rubbing her tingling hands against the sides of her legs. What did she think she was going to do? Dive in and scavenge among the rubble for an arrow that had no doubt been splintered into a hundred pieces? Or did she think the arrow might miraculously rise to the surface and float across to her? She felt the tingling again and kept walking. She walked until she was more than halfway around the lake. The tingling had grown stronger.

"Uffern," she muttered. The tingling was turning into an unpleasant itching. Suddenly she noticed she was moving away from the lake into the sedges and shrubs. She wasn't quite sure why; there was no path, though perhaps a very faint trace of someone at some time having moved this way before.

She entered a small copse of trees. Inside the grove she discovered a large circular patch where the trees had been cleared away, except for a tall, slender rowan, which stood in the very center. Brie walked up to the tree and stood in front of it, half-expectant. Nothing happened.

Staring at the bark of the tree, looking for something, though she did not know what, she rubbed her stinging hands against her tunic.

"Brie?" Collun called. He had followed and was moving through the trees toward her. Brie silently motioned for him to stop before entering the exposed circle, then she went back to gazing at the tree.

She felt keyed up, irritable. The itching on her hands was now a burning, painful sensation. She kept wanting to rub them against her tunic, but when she did, it hurt. What does this tree have to do with anything? she asked herself crossly.

Then, inconsequently, she; had the memory of Aelwyn laying her hands against Monodnock's porth, and she had the sudden urge to do the same to the rowan in front of her. At least it might make the prickling feel better, she thought.

She laid her burning hands on the tree's surface and the next moment she was standing in darkness, her palms resting on something cool and smooth to the touch.

"Uffern," she muttered again. "Now where am I?" Fortunately her pack was on her back, and after fishing out several lasan sticks, she lit one on the rock floor of wherever it was she was standing.

In the dim light she could see she was in some kind of tomb, a passage grave it looked to be, and she was in the vaulted inner room. Her hands had been resting on a marble column carved to resemble a rowan tree. Then she heard a pounding sound and someone faintly calling her name.

She lit another lasan stick and, spotting a torch stuck in a wall sconce, took it down. Quickly she set the torch alight and hurried down the passage that ended in a bolted door. With some effort she lifted the bolt and pushed open the door. Collun stood there, looking startled. Brie could see Hanna behind him, with the two horses.

"What happened, Brie?" Collun asked.

"I don't know. Come in if you like," said Brie, still irritable. She abruptly turned and made her way back down the passageway. Collun followed, while Hanna remained outside with the horses.

The rowan tree column stood in a center chamber, with another chamber on either side of it. The middle chamber was piled high with glimmering ornaments: jeweled boxes from which cascaded gold bracelets, gorgets, arm rings, finger rings, pendants, bead necklaces, and torques. The room to the left was devoted mainly to swords and scabbards, as well as shields, with a few chests holding silver and gold coins, and some with tapestries folded inside; the third chamber consisted mainly of burial urns and pots, as well as more weaponry.

As Collun gazed about in awe, Brie took the torch and began to prowl the chambers, illuminating every dark and cobwebbed corner. Her palms felt as though they were on fire. Finally she found what she sought—her quiver and bow. They were haphazardly propped up against the wall, in the shadow of a large sarcophagus.

Barely able to breathe, Brie pulled the arrows out of the quiver, holding them in her burning hand. She stared down at them, bringing the torch close. They were all arrows she had made: plain, unadorned arrows. A sob caught in her throat. But then one of the arrows blurred. It began to change, metamorphosing with flashes of gold and purple and brown and shimmers of pure light. And, amazingly, there among the other arrows in her hand lay the fire arrow, complete with story bands and goldenhawk fletching. Relief coursed through Brie and her knees almost gave way.

As she straightened, she felt a surge of irrational triumph. The fire arrow had concealed itself from Balor; it had been stronger. If the arrow had been a person, she would have hugged it to her fiercely. As it was, she just gazed down at it, a stupid smile on her face.

"You found what you were seeking?"

She looked up at Collun. "Yes, yes, I did." She saw that Collun was staring at the arrow. "It's, um, a magic arrow. It's sort of done things to me, like, uh, leading me in here, I guess," she said. "And that night by the campfire, when you thought you saw me? Well, I think the arrow did that, even though it was here and I was in the tower..." She trailed off.

"I see, I think." He was eyeing her a little warily.

"Don't look at me like that," she said, sounding cross. "Let us return to Hanna." Brie put the fire arrow back in the quiver and slung it across her back. She noticed that the fiery feeling in her hands had gone.

"Wait," Collun said, looking around the chamber. "I wonder..."

"What?"

"Well, I was just thinking. Perhaps I ought to arm myself," he said offhandedly.

Brie stared at him. The Collun she knew before had disliked weapons of any kind.

"Kled came with me to Temair. He gave me some lessons in swordplay. It helped to pass the winter."

"I see," Brie said.

Collun took the torch from Brie and, lifting it up, scanned the array of swords.

Brie watched him as he moved slowly through the chambers. He lifted an elegant sword with a golden hilt, encased in a golden scabbard. He unsheathed it with a flourish, and the gleaming blade seemed to pulse; rays of gold lit the chamber. Uneasy, he resheathed it.

None of the swords seemed to suit him. Then he crossed to a blade lying on the ground, half obscured by a gilded trunk. He picked it up. It was a plain sword with no carving or precious metal. There was a little nick in the blade near the grip, and faint markings on the blade, but they were too worn down to make out, except for a very dim eight-pointed star. The scabbard was plain dark leather.

"This one looks about right for me," he said. Brie watched as he found a baldric and strapped the sword to his waist. It did look right somehow.

"I'm ready," Collun announced, his voice impersonal again. Brie picked up a small sword for herself, as well as an extra dagger.

When they left Balor's treasure chambers, Brie turned to look at the white marble structure. As she did the marble almost seemed to wrinkle and fold, and spiral shapes began curling across its surface. Then the building evaporated, leaving nothing behind but the single rowan tree in the center of the glade.

***

The first night of their journey to Sedd Brennhin, as Hanna slumbered and Brie restrung her bow, Collun asked, "So how did you do that, I mean, find the rowan tree and make the passage grave appear?"

Brie shook her head. "The fire arrow must have been working through me somehow. All I knew was that my hands were driving me crazy."

"That's some arrow," Collun said.

"Yes."

A silence grew between them. Then Collun abruptly spoke. "You have never answered the question I asked. Did you find your revenge?"

Brie stared sightlessly down at the bow across her lap. A sudden bright image of the bog and the dying men and the blood on her skin came before her eyes, and she began to tremble. She felt the old shame, as if her skin was fouled with blood that could never be washed off. "I cannot...," she breathed.

He was beside her at once. "Tell me, Brie." She could feel his breath warm on her cheek, and his fingers encircled her wrist.

And she did; she told Collun all of it, as she had told Lom on the deck of the Storm Petrel, only this time she let the tears come and Collun's arms went around her as she wept. Brie thought she had never felt so much of pain and of joy all at the same time.

When Hanna woke in the morning she saw Brie and Collun side by side, sharing a laugh at Fara, who greedily was eating oatcakes as fast as Collun could flip them out of the pan. The older woman smiled to herself, but said nothing of it.

That day as they rode ahead of Collun, Hanna asked Brie, "Who is Balor, this black sheep of your family?"

"He is, uh, was consort to Medb." She cast an uneasy glance back at Collun.

"Does he do her bidding?"

"I do not know, but I believe he plays a lone hand."

"To betray the Queen of Ghosts is perhaps imprudent?"

"Fearless, at any rate. Hanna, Balor killed my father."

Hanna reached forward for Brie's hand, holding it hard.

"You told Collun?"

"Yes." But the one thing she had not told him was what Balor had said of Collun's father, Cuillean, and his new abode in Scath.

***

Not being fond of the sea, and perhaps leery of the potential for flood, Prince Durwydd had moved the royal seat of Dungal from its original spot on the coast to a verdant but isolated valley that lay a day's journey from the fishing village of Mira. The old Sedd Brennhin, which Fionna had saved from the great flood and from where she ruled the kingdom of Dungal for many peaceful and prosperous years, lay deserted.

As they journeyed, Hanna told them something of Prince Durwydd. "He has little will for ruling, as I have already told Biri. Indeed it was ill-omened that he should have been the only heir to the throne. His main preoccupations are the stars, their movements and meaning, and Ellylon; he is fascinated by the mysterious kingdom of Tir a Ceol. He has even managed to befriend several Ellylon and, on several occasions, visited the northern reaches of Tir a Ceol with them. To his credit, he keeps several sound advisers around him, but they are not rulers."

It took five days of hard travel to reach Durwydd's fortress. As they entered the valley, Brie spotted a flutter of movement to the north. She was not sure, but thought that just as they entered the valley from the east, a company of men on horseback had left it, heading north. She was too far away to have seen what manner of men they were.

As they came to the dun's entrance, they saw that the portcullis was raised and the large door ajar.

"This bodes ill," said Hanna, peering uneasily about for watchmen or guards. Brie's nose twitched. She smelled goat.

Inside the fortress they found a hideous silence, and the terrible reek of goat-men. The inhabitants of the dun had been slaughtered, and not very long ago. Their bodies lay scattered about the rooms and hallways. Hanna's face was grim, her eyes a burning black.

But as they searched the dun they found no trace of Prince Durwydd, dead or alive. In a corner tower they came across one of his advisers, a grizzled, gray-bearded man called Ralfe, who was sorely injured, yet still alive. He told them that Durwydd, oppressed by his subjects' troubles with drought and sumog, had fled to Tir a Ceol, for a short "vacation," as he called it.

"He left yesterday; today the foul creatures came." Ralfe shuddered violently. As both Hanna and Collun worked to heal him, Brie gazed around the tower room, at the blood and lifeless bodies. Balor had indeed woven his net wide and strong, she thought.

Eventually Ralfe had fallen into an uneasy slumber, and Collun told them the adviser had a good chance of recovering. Further searching led them to several more survivors of the brutal attack, among them a voluble cook called Iryna, who had hidden in the storeroom at the bottom of the fortress, behind barrels of ale. She had some healing skill, so Collun put her in charge of the wounded. Her son, steady-eyed beyond his young years, had hidden with his mother in the storeroom and turned out to be a capable and energetic helper.

"When he returns, we will tell Prince Durwydd of the gabha," said the son.

"And you must tell him, too," said Brie, "of the powerful sorcerer whose bidding they do. Even as we speak, this sorcerer marshals his forces to invade Dungal. The army must be readied—" She broke off. "Has Dungal an army?" asked Brie.

Hanna shook her head. "Not one that is trained or organized. There has been little need of an army in Dungal, not for hundreds of years."

"An army must be mounted now."

"Yes, but—," began Hanna.

"We will mount an army. We will start with Ardara and work our way north, to Sedd Wydyr," said Brie decisively. Hanna's black eyes widened; she and Collun exchanged a glance.

"Yes, let us go to Ardara," Hanna agreed.

They traveled swiftly, pushing the Ellyl horses to their limit. They arrived in Ardara spent and exhausted.

Brie and Hanna decided to split up, while Collun waited with the horses on the outskirts of town. Hanna would go to Farmer Garmon and then on to the village, while Brie would head directly for the harbor and to Sago.

Brie hoped to find Lom first. There was much she wanted to explain to him, though she did not know where she would find the words. But when she arrived at the harbor, it was deserted. And, despite the fact that it was a fair day, perfect for fishing, the boats were all pulled up on the sand. She headed into town and found Lom at the Speckled Trout with Jacan and a knot of other fishermen.

They told Brie that the waters around Ardara continued to be infested with sumog. Several more fishermen had been killed when sumog viciously attacked their boats. A small child had even been dragged to his death when he strayed too close to the water's edge. No one would go out on the water now.

When Sago had recovered from the stonefish poison, the old sorcerer had gone out in his boat and a few twinkling lights had been seen. But after the first night there were no more lights, and freak storms had blown up. They found pieces of Sago's boat washed up on shore. A group of villagers had gone to see how the sorcerer fared and found him weak and completely addled. It was as if the loss of his boat had broken the old man. Lom made it a point to go every day to make sure he ate and slept, but said he feared the sorcerer had burned out the last of his sorcery. And the sumog kept ravaging the waters of Ardara.

"I know where sumog come from," Brie said, and then she poured out her tale. All the patrons of the Speckled Trout gathered round to listen. At first her tongue felt like a tangled fishing line, but the words came and the fisherfolk listened. As she spoke, Brie caught a glimpse of the innkeeper on the edges of the group. She suddenly remembered the stonefish the innkeeper had planted in Sago's amhantar and cursed herself for a fool for choosing this place to tell her tale. But there was nothing she could do. The innkeeper said nothing, just listened closely, a scowl on his face.

When Brie was done it was Lom who said quietly, "When do we go north?"

"At dawn tomorrow."

"Where shall we meet?"

"Veena Creek, on the outskirts of town."

Lom turned and faced the Ardarans. "Who will come?"

There were several heartfelt "Ayes!" and a handful of nodding heads.

Then the innkeeper elbowed his way forward, saying, "Fools! Would you put yourselves in the hands of a leannan-shee?!"

Stunned, Brie stared at the innkeeper. Lom, his face red with anger, took a step toward him. Brie opened her mouth to reveal the innkeeper's treachery, but he spoke first. "Think, ye half-wits," he spit out. "Things only began to go bad after the leannan-shee came to Ardara. She's claimed Lom here, and the boy Dil." Jacan held Lom back while the innkeeper continued. "And you've seen how chummy she's been with that feeble-minded, washed-up Sea Dyak sorcerer. No doubt they've been in it together all along."

A restraining hand still on Lom's shoulder, Jacan spoke loudly. "Pay the innkeeper no heed. Dungal is threatened. We must spread the word. Come." Brie had been on the verge of speaking out about the innkeeper's own complicity in the stonefish attack on Sago, but Jacan had linked his arm in hers and was leading a large group of fishermen out of the Speckled Trout. Looking back, she noticed that a handful of villagers stayed behind and were huddled by the ale tap, listening to the innkeeper.

Lom and the others went to spread the word, while Brie headed for Sago's mote.

***

"The prodigal returns. Sing hey nonny no!"

Sago was sitting on the front step of his mote, a kittiwake on one shoulder and one at his feet. He looked smaller than before and his head was naked, no cap the color of seawater and no hair at all. He smiled when he saw Brie, but did not try to rise. There was a new fragility in him that frightened her.

"Shall we to battle then?" he said, eyes alight. He tried to stand, but fell back, chortling, "You bring the lantern, I'll bring the pole, and we'll have sumog for dinner tonight!"

"Sago, I am sorry about your boat, about Gor-gwynt."

"Once there was a little rig;

a seabird taught it how to jig.

It danced all day, it danced all night,"

Sago intoned with a frenzied grin, "and then it danced right out of sight."

"Sago, I have met Balor."

The sorcerer laid a finger aside his nose, cocking his head to one side. "Balor, Balor. A shining boy, as I recall, an ambitious boy. Ill-pleased when I would not teach him. I could not see it; no, he had no aptitude for fishing."

"We are trying to gather an army, to fight Balor."

"Four and twenty sailors

Went to kill a snail.

And a little maid shall lead them,

All around the dale,"

he chanted, throwing a piece of bread in the air. As the kittiwake on his shoulder launched itself into the air to go after it, its talons dug into Sago's thin shoulder and he winced, doubling over.

He straightened with a grimace, and asked, eyes wide, "And when dost the army march? For I shall march with you, oh yes, indeedy, I shall."

"You are not well enough, Sago."

"A parrot fish a day keeps the healers away." Sago grinned. "When and where?"

"Dawn tomorrow. Veena Creek," Brie told him reluctantly.

Sago rose, with an effort painful to watch, picked up his amhantar, and slung it over his shoulder. "Time for one last treasure hunt, then." He raised his hand in farewell and slowly headed down toward the sea. He moved like a very old man, tentatively, stiffly. Brie watched him for several moments, then turned and left the beach.