I took flight in a whirl of confusion and shoved it aside. I couldn’t think about it, not a bit of it. I needed to focus. Feel the wind, the lift under my wings, survey the ground below. The sea stretched out to my right and the bogs and hills of the land were to my left. Head west. That was the goal. Head west, but not too far west, I chided. Feel the wind swell, take it and don’t let it rule.
I kept that centre, pushing down and out all other emotions that might take over. Too far west wasn’t where I wanted to be at this moment, and emotion could very well take me there. Looking down, I sought familiar landmarks, using them to fix my thoughts. I noted the blocked roads, shaking my head at the fecker who contrived it.
By the time I reached the outskirts of Castletownbere, I was the corbie in charge, beak ready, battle prepped. Yes, oh yes. I scanned the hotel for Balor’s vehicle or anything that might indicate he was there, landing on window ledges, peeping in hotel rooms, until they all seemed to look the same. I knew it was unlikely, but still, it was best to be thorough.
Eventually, having ruled out the hotel, I took flight and resumed my search, finally heading towards Bere Island. There was little enough there that offered possibilities, but still, I knew it had to be done and thankfully it didn’t take too long to rule it out.
I headed west again, my instincts telling me the cable car was the biggest key to her location. And when I arrived there, the toll of my efforts starting to become evident, it was if I could feel the poison hanging in the air and the agony of the land. While I rested there, near the stop for the cable car, I listened intently.
My heartbeat slowed and as it did I felt the beat of something more. The land. Sluggish and faint. She had to be here. I could hear her. It was a question of where.
I was conscious of gathering clouds overhead. Rain soon and not just a light shower. It was storm season and the clouds were very much aware of it. And the sea below was answering, the churning waters of the Dursey Sound threatening.
I took off, suddenly desperate to find where Balor was keeping Kayla. There were so many things that seemed off. Unnatural. And it was that feeling, and the faint heartbeat that pulled me on, sight keen and ear on alert. The pulling took me towards the other side of the island, away from the walkers, to a small place, off on its own, abandoned and half obscured under the ivy and moss. It seemed unlikely, but likely for Balor. And once I landed, it was all I thought and all I feared. Kayla, inside a tent pitched within the ruin, lying unconscious in a sleeping bag. And tending her was Eithne.
Fury caught me by surprise. Of course that fecker would have his daughter out here while, in the safety of his little hideaway, he pulled the strings in this macabre theatre piece of his.
I flew off. I’d seen enough.
“Eithne is there?” said Luke, the anger evident in his face and tone.
I was back in the kitchen, standing before the others who were staging a wake-like vigil with tea, sandwiches and whiskey cluttering the table.
Luke stared at me as if I might deny the words I’d said. I only wish. Anger had filled my wings on the flight back and no thoughts disturbed my mind but how to outwit that fecker. He turned away and left the room. A moment later footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Finn squeezed my arm and gave me a nudge in the ribs with his elbow. “Aren’t you a star,” he said in a low voice. “You and your beady eyes found her.”
I raised my brows. “Beady?”
“Beady. Beady is good.”
I smiled. “Okay.” Giddiness hit me and I wanted to hit it back. Giddy, me? Feck no. I managed to half swallow the giggle that threatened to escape, but a gurgle emerged and it had Finn pounding me on my back lightly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you before I gave you a compliment.”
“That’s never a compliment,” I said.
“Keen-eyed, Finn,” said Saoirse. She looked at me. “He meant keen-eyed.”
I snorted. “Ah now, in that case.”
Smithy offered me a glass of whiskey. “Restorative,” he said.
I nodded and took it gratefully. Overhead, I heard footsteps heading towards the stair landing and then descend. A moment later Luke arrived, sword in hand.
“Right,” he said. “I’m ready. Who’s coming with me?”
“Now?” asked Smithy.
“Luke, give yourself a moment to calm down,” said Anu. “We’ll discuss and decide how best to approach it.”
“What needs discussing?” said Luke. “We know where she is. We can head out now. We can find someone who has a boat who can take us to Dursey.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy, Luke. You know that. There’s a storm about to break, the currents and tide are against us. You’ll be hard pressed to find someone willing to take his boat out in these conditions.”
Luke bit his lip, frustration clear on his face. “If we can get a boat, I can get us there.”
Finn shook his head slowly. “You don’t want to go out in a storm. Besides, waiting it out will give us time to plan, as Anu says.”
“Sit,” said Anu, her voice firm. “Let’s go through everything Maura discovered.”
Reluctantly, Luke took the chair Smithy gave over to him and poured himself a small whiskey. Finn took my now empty glass and handed it to Smithy for a refill. Once done, I leaned back against the sink, glass in hand and prepared to recount every detail I could. Finn was beside me, his quiet strength somehow a comfort.
When I was finished, Luke nodded quietly and thanked me.
“We should wait until the weather has calmed,” said Finn. “Then we can find a boat and get Kayla.”
I glanced at Luke. He was staring out of the window, his expression tight. He peered out, studying the sky. After a few moments he drew back and shook his head.
“The winds are strange,” he muttered. He looked over at me. “How did it seem to you?”
I nodded slowly. “Different. The scent in the air, the wind direction. I don’t know. Not right. And the sea…” I shook my head.
Luke looked over at Anu. “What do you think?”
Anu gave him a sympathetic smile. “I think you could be right, Lugh.”
“Balor’s persuaded Manannán to create stormy seas?” said Finn, disbelief in his voice.
“Why would he do that?” asked Smithy. “He’d never side with Balor.”
Luke paled. “Mon,” he said.
“Mon?” said Smithy.
Luke ran his hand through his hair, his expression filled with anguish. “It’s Mon. Lately, he’s been able to control sections of the sea.”
“Again,” said Smithy. “Why? He’s your foster brother, sure he’d never do that to you.”
Luke looked away. “He would now.”
“So these stormy seas could continue for a long time,” said Saoirse quietly.
“Until Manannán finds out,” said Smithy. “He won’t be best pleased.”
“That could be a while,” said Finn.
Luke placed fisted hands on his head. “Feck! This is my fault.”
“Why would you blame yourself?” asked Saoirse quietly. She placed her hand on his arm, but he shook it off.
“Because he thinks I betrayed him.”
“What?” said Smithy.
Luke sighed. “Clíodhna. He thinks I betrayed him with Clíodhna. She trapped me into a relationship and I didn’t even know that’s who she was. I’d never met her when Mon was involved with her.”
It was an ancient tale. Everyone knew of it. Mon angry at Clíodhna spurning him for her mortal lover and Manannán killing her lover and washing her back into the sea to take her place among the Tuatha de Danann. Even I knew of Mon’s pain and remorse that his father had used his love of Clíodhna to reclaim her for the Tuatha de Danann.
“What should we do?” I asked, startled that I’d slipped into the use of “we”. I looked at Anu. “Would you be able to contact Daghda to let him know? He could pass it on to Manannán.”
“No,” said Luke. “This is my fault. So I’ll fix it.”
“What will you do?” asked Saoirse.
“I’m going to find Mon.”