him.
After half a minute, she hadn’t managed to land a blow.
Brendan was quite pleased with himself until he saw Kitsune Kai stop, stretch, and smile. “Okay. The warm- up is over. Let’s begin in earnest.” She coiled her whole body like a panther about to spring.
“Crap.” Brendan gulped.
With a snarl, she launched herself at him again.
Fists and feet came at him with blinding speed. It was all he could do to avoid her flurry of blows. She held nothing back. Brendan had to warp faster than he ever had before or he was finished.
Come on! Come on! he screamed in his mind. You can do this!
Then he remembered what Charlie had suggested. He started to sing.
“Who taught you to live like that?” he sang suddenly. “Who taught you to live like that? Who taught you to live like that?” It was a song by Sloan, one of his favourite bands.
“What are you doing?” Kitsune Kai frowned.
Brendan ignored her and concentrated on the lyrics, singing them in his head.
She came through inspections
Towards me in sections
The life disappeared from the room.
She asked me politely
May I put this lightly
The death that you thought was exhumed
It’s buried beneath us
Since I wrote the thesis
I think I know better than you.
He felt the fizz of the warp begin in his blood.
Kitsune Kai seemed to sense the onset of Brendan’s warp powers. She hissed and redoubled her efforts. The song was in his hands and his feet now, driving him on, kicking him into high gear. He sang only in his mind now, the lyrics and the melody second nature as he balanced the cup and avoided Kitsune Kai’s blows.
He leaned backwards and avoided a roundhouse kick. He was astonished that a woman so tiny could reach his face with her equally tiny foot. He backflipped away from her while desperately trying to keep the tea from spilling. He managed to land safely on the very edge of the rock, teetering on the verge of losing his balance.
“Faster!” cried Kitsune Kai. “Faster!”
Oh no! He cradled the teacup in his hand even as the mad little woman leapt at him again, her tail whipping back and forth ferociously.
He dodged as best he could, twisting his torso to miss the kicks and punches she hurled at him. He was vaguely aware that the crowd around him was hooting and cheering. As soon as he let that outside sound distract him, Kitsune Kai swept his feet out from under him. He went head over heels.
Suddenly, his warp powers kicked in full force. He was frozen in the moment. Time stretched out like taffy. He could see the expressions on the faces of the Faeries closest to him shifting from eager excitement to shock. Kitsune Kai’s eyes bored into his as the world rotated one hundred and eighty degrees.
Strangely, Brendan felt no alarm. Everything was slow and beautiful. He had time to savour his flight. With ease, he rotated his wrist so that the teacup was upright. Even so, a drop spilled out of the bowl. The droplet hung in the air, a glittering globule rotating with him. He felt weightless, like an astronaut in orbit. He smiled at the sensation. Slowly, he started to descend toward the rock beneath his head. He strained his neck forward and opened his mouth, catching the droplet of tea easily. Realizing he’d crack his skull if he didn’t take appropriate action, he stuck out his hand, palm down, and landed on it, balancing himself upside down while cradling the teacup in his other upturned hand. His legs were splayed out for balance.
The warp state dissipated and he was left poised on the rock. Throughout the Faerground, silence reigned supreme. Kitsune Kai stood with her hand cocked on her hip and a look of cool appraisal on her delicate face. Her tail twitched once. Twice. Then she nodded, a single dip of her pointy chin.
“Yeah, okay. I am satisfied.”
The crowd roared approval. Kitsune Kai plucked the teacup from Brendan’s hand and hopped down from the stone. Brendan gratefully lowered himself to the stone and got back on his feet. He was starting to feel that he might get through these tests after all. His elation died when he saw Pukh step up onto the rock.
The Lord of Tir na nOg took a moment to gaze out over the crowd. Pukh had a sense of the theatrical, letting the tension build and the crowd slowly cease its chatter. Finally, when he had absolute silence, he raised his hands. “I have thought long and hard about this Proving. It is said that you are descended from the line of Morn. I was a close compatriot of Briach Morn. I was his comrade-inarms in darker times.” A whisper stirred the crowd before he continued. “But it is contested that the great Briach Morn was your father.” He paused here for effect, looking out over the crowd solemnly. “True, I can see his face in yours, Brendan, but I must be sure. Thus, my test!” He waved a hand and two Faeries moved forward carrying a long, narrow wooden box between them. The box was simple and rough-hewn with two rope handles at either end. From their staggering approach, it was clear that the box was quite heavy. They set the box on the grass with a dull thud.
“As you may or may not know, Brendan,” Pukh said, pausing to arch an eyebrow at the audience, emphasizing Brendan’s ignorance, “Faerie weapons and armour are keyed to the energy of their owners. By lucky chance, I happen to have an item that once belonged to my dear friend Briach.” Pukh flicked a wrist at the bearers and they bent to flip open the lid of the box. Lying inside was a long object wrapped in black silk. Pukh lifted the bundle easily in one hand and joined Brendan on the rock.
Brendan was torn between dread at being so close to the Lord of Tir na nOg and curiosity about the object.
Pukh continued to speak as he gently unwrapped the bundle with his long, elegant fingers. “When Faeries die, their armour and weapons lose their power and quickly dissolve. Your Father, however, is not dead. He merely chose, in his grief over his wife’s death, to go to the Other Side. Therefore, his weapons and armour remain intact. He left them in my safe-keeping until the…” Pukh stopped suddenly, then affected sorrow. “Alas! So sad. So much potential lost. He was an old friend and I miss his counsel.” He pulled the cloth from the object, revealing a beautifully wrought sword. He was careful to keep the hilt wrapped in silk as he held it. “This was his favourite blade. I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to pronounce the name in the Old Tongue, Brendan. In English, it would be called Dawn Cleaver.”
Brendan held his breath. The weapon was exquisitely crafted. The blade was a metre long with a single cutting edge. Sunlight danced along the razor-sharp edge, dazzling Brendan’s eyes. The hilt was a simple cross. The entire weapon seemed to be formed from one continuous piece of smoky, translucent crystal. It was a beautiful, deadly object.
More fascinating to Brendan was the sound. He could feel rather than hear a deep, rich humming as though the sword were vibrating to music only he could hear. It was like a tuning fork struck by a celestial finger.
“The sword is tuned to Briach, but if Brendan is really his son, he should be able to hold the weapon without undue harm,” Pukh explained.
“NO!” Deirdre cried. “It’s too dangerous!” Ariel placed a hand on her arm to restrain her.
“Deirdre,” Ariel said. “Pukh has chosen the test. He is a judge. You cannot interfere.”
“But he is young in his powers,” Deirdre insisted. “Even though he is Briach’s son and Morn blood flows in his veins, the imprinting of the blade upon his mind may drive him mad. Or worse. If the blade rejects him, it could be fatal!”
Ariel’s face was hard. He glared at Brendan. “He must be Proven. I, for one, would have Brendan Prove beyond a doubt that he is of the line of Morn and that his initiation was valid.” Ariel’s authority was at stake as well. He had accepted Brendan’s initiation and must have found it humiliating to have his judgment questioned by the Proving ceremony.
“What’s the point if he doesn’t make it through the Proving?” Deirdre insisted.
Brendan laid a hand on his aunt’s arm. “It’s okay, Aunt Deirdre. I have to do it. Otherwise people like Pukh will never stop finding new reasons to doubt me. If I do this, it’s over.”
He could see the concern in Deirdre’s eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it without a word, nodded, and stepped back. Brendan smiled with a reassurance he didn’t quite feel himself and turned to face
