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“I’d have it buried in the depths of the sea. The fates push us this way, that way.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just life, forks in the road. You knew when I came here I might not make it through. You trained me to fight to give me a chance, even knowing the answer might be death.”
“That was different.”
“Why?”
“Because it bloody was.” He gripped her shoulders, and she prepared for an onslaught of curses. Instead, he pulled her to him, held hard. “Can you see this leaves me without choice? If Odran somehow takes your life, what’s left?”
“Talamh. I’m not just giving up, Keegan. Please don’t give up on me.”
He pressed his face into her hair. “If you die, I’ll be very pissed off.”
“Good. I’m going to do my best so you don’t have to be very pissed off. It has weight, Keegan, but it also has power. I’ll learn to use it.”
He stepped back. “It’s too late for training today. You’ll train harder tomorrow.”
He led Boy toward the paddock gate as Harken came out with a pail on his way to the well.
Something passed between the brothers—she saw that clearly. And Harken set the pail aside. “I’ll see to Boy.”
But he crossed to Breen first, his eyes on hers as he cupped her face, kissed it. “Nothing is written that can’t be changed to read another way. Who’d know that better than you?”
“Come.” Keegan grabbed her hand. “We’ll get over before dark for a change.”
With Bollocks leading the way, she started across the road. But glanced back at Harken, then up at Keegan.
“Tell me something I didn’t think to ask until right now. Has anyone who’s worn this lived a long and happy life?”
“Marg is alive and well as you know yourself.”
“But lost her son. Don’t bullshit around with me, okay?”
“Only two I know from song and story broke the pledge. Stripped of their powers, their gifts, stripping themselves of honor, their lives withered. Others, like Marg, lost not their life but one more precious to them than their own. And others fell.”
“So death, dishonor, or the loss of someone loved.” She crossed intoIreland, then sat on one of the wide, sweeping branches. “I’m taking a minute.”
“What Harken said is true.”
“Okay, we’ll go with that. And none of the others who put this on had god blood running through them. That should be advantage me.”
He moved to sit beside her, but she waved him off.
“No, don’t. Don’t be kind and comforting just now. There’s two ways this could go—I mean two most obvious ways. The first is all of this, from Odran’s fall to now, skipping eons, to Nan falling for Odran’s false face, having my father, and what followed that. My mother walking into the pub in Doolin the night my father, and yours, and Morena’s, and their friend played. Her going to Talamh with him and having me. And all that followed that to me going into that same pub, and all the steps and choices since. All of that is one long, long story that ends with me giving my life to end Odran’s, bringing peace to Talamh and saving the worlds.”
“I won’t accept that.”
Her throat felt raw, as if she’d swallowed something jagged. But she did her best to think clearly and coldly.
“I’d rather not, but I’ve heard it said more than once the gods are cold and sly. But the other scenario—and I prefer it—is all I’ve just said, but the end remains largely true. But because advantage me, because there’s the demon added in the mix, I use what I am, and whatever this pendant gives me, and end him. And live through it. Because there’s been enough sacrifice and loss, and his time’s just fucking up.”
“I like that version a great deal more than the first.”
“Me, too.” She rubbed Bollocks, nudged him back so she could stand again. “I’d never really considered a tattoo. So not me—or the me I thought I was. But that day I walked right into that tattoo parlor and got this.”
She turned her wrist over. “Why did I choosecourage, why did I choose the Irish—and it turns out the Talamhish—word for courage? Maybe some part of me knew I’d need it to finish this.”
“You’ll be protected.”
