“I did not think you were stupid enough to tell me to.”
I chuckle and Tara allows a rare smile as we settle back into a more relaxed position. Easy in our company again. Injuries are common enough here, even if they’re not usually quite as deliberately inflicted. There is no lingering antipathy over what happened, nor should there be.
My smile gradually dies as I consider the fight again. “It was like a voice in my head, after that.”
She nods slowly. Unsurprised. Gaze lingering briefly on the spear at my side. We just sit for a moment, both of us watching the firelight, and then she sighs. “Lir wants to see you.”
I don’t want to let it go. “It’s him, isn’t it. Artán.”
“An echo, maybe.” Melancholy is a strange look on Tara, even if it’s fleeting. She firms. “And you need to talk to Lir.”
I don’t blame her, frustrating though her reticence is. She’s not meant to breathe a word of what the druids have revealed to her, what thenasceannreally is. Even this was probably too much.
“And if he says I am to go with him?”
Her brow furrows as she stares into the flames. “He will. And you will. But he will bring you back to us, too. I have already insisted.” She turns to me. Lit by the fire. Ruddy-cheeked, her scar there but just a feature now, not the ugly mark I first saw it as. “We are stronger together, Deaglán.”
I return her gaze. An accident, I know, but that phrase. I have hated that phrase for so long.
From her, I believe it.
“Stronger together,” I repeat back at her, smiling.
LIR IS WAITING FOR ME ALONG THE SHORE, AWAY FROMthe causeway and out of sight of the others. He studies me as I approach.
“Deaglán. An interesting contest, today.” He motions me to sit on a log, and I oblige. The switch from Leathfhear to my name being Deaglán seems not to have fazed anyone. “I have not seen one of its like in many years.”
“I am glad to have entertained, Druid.” I speak carefully. Respectful, but also making it clear that I do not wish to be here.
He chuckles. “That is one way to put it.” His smile fades. “You wish to fight.”
“I wish to support my friends. I will fight if I must.”
Lir nods approvingly. “It is a poor warrior who fights for the pleasure of it. But there are other things we must address. More important things even than your loyalty to your friends.”
“Thenasceann.”
“Yes.” Lir’s gaze never leaves mine. He’s curious, but not concerned, though I’m armed and he isn’t. Not that he has anything to fear, from me. But I am reminded again about the strength that honour has among these people. How firm its grip. “King Rónán’s decree in sending you here first had to be satisfied, but otherwise, this path has been set since the moment you denounced Gallchobhar. It is not a power you should be able to access. And not one you are allowed to have without training.”
“I have had training.”
His eyebrows rise at that. “Where?”
“The Catenan Republic.” He shakes his head, no recognition, as with the last time I mentioned that name to him. “The power … I think it works differently, there. But Ihavebeen trained.”
Lir rubs his beard. “Can you do it now? Activate it on command?” I shake my head—I’ve tried briefly, a couple of times, since the fight with Tara—and he frowns. “I see. So you need more training.”
“No.” It comes out sharper than I mean it to, more frustrated, but I simply grimace an apology and plough on. “I have had enough of training. I trained most of my childhood. I have trained for months here.”
“And at what point will you no longer need to learn, Deaglán?”
I give a soft laugh. Recognising too much of my father in the question. “Never—but that is not the question, Lir, is it? The question is when will I no longer need to be taught.” I meet his gaze. “I will always accept guidance. Always seek to better myself. But I am able to learn for myself, now.”
Lir grunts. He likes the answer, I think, but not the situation it puts him in.
“I will allow you to join your friends at Caer Áras. You will be able to stand against Fiachra,” he says eventually. I open my mouth to effusively thank him and he holds up a hand, forestalling me. “But.But. First, you must give up your spear until I tell you it is time, and not discuss your experience of thenasceannwith anyone. Then you must also agree to accompany me when we reach the mainland. We will take a separate path to the Caer. A far more dangerous one, for you. You will arrive two, perhaps three days behind the others.”
My jubilation fades to something more uneasy. Just as Tara said. “Why?”
