“I’m ready,” Brendan said. “Let’s do this.”
Merddyn had been standing back, content to watch events unfold. Now he stepped forward with a piece of ver million chalk held high. “I will draw the circle.” He looked at Brendan pointedly. “Only I can release you from it.”
As he bent to begin, Brendan was distracted by Chester’s voice. “Brendan!”
Brendan squatted beside his former enemy. “What is it, Chester? I’m a little busy.”
“Just be careful,” Chester said quietly. “This guy is big and strong with a long reach. Stay outside until you know you have a clear shot, then duck in under and hammer him in close.”
Brendan laughed. “I’ll try to remember that when he’s wiping the floor with me.”
“Seriously,” Chester insisted. “I do mixed martial arts. I know what I’m talking about. And Brendan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. I mean it. I’m glad you helped me out, even if you didn’t mean to.”
A lump formed in Brendan’s throat. He looked at Dmitri and Harold and they both smiled. They were plainly worried, but they trusted him. It meant a lot. Finally, he looked at his sister.
Delia frowned. “You are a total jerk wad, but don’t worry about that right now. Whatever you do, don’t lose. Mum and Dad won’t be happy about it.” The look in her eyes hinted that she might not be happy about losing him either. He smiled at her and bent down to kiss her forehead. “You’re gonna make me puke,” she said and smiled. Brendan laughed and stood up.
Kim was waiting to say something, but instead she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. He hugged her back. She broke her grip and said, “Do your best.” Then she stepped away.
Merddyn had drawn three-quarters of the circle on the polished floor of the pub. The crowd backed away, forming a ring outside the circle of chalk. Lugh stepped through the open section and entered the circle. Brendan took a deep breath before following. BLT distracted him by fluttering down onto his shoulder.
“I’ll come with you,” she said, her tiny mouth set grimly in a line.
“No. It isn’t allowed.”
“But I would if I could.”
“I know.”
“Be careful.”
“I will.” Brendan dug in his pocket and pulled out a caramel wrapped in cellophane. He handed the sweet to the Lesser Faerie. It was the size of a cinderblock in her tiny hands. “I was saving it for Christmas but… “
BLT’s eyes filled with tiny tears. “I’ll save it for later and celebrate your victory.”
She fluttered away, struggling with her burden. Brendan scanned the room for Greenleaf and Deirdre. They waved to him. Deirdre’s forehead was creased by a frown and her long, elegant fingers worried at the cloth of her gown. Greenleaf merely smiled and nodded.
Brendan was distracted by Charlie’s arrival. She pushed her way through to join Merddyn at the edge of the crowd. Merddyn whispered something in her ear and she shook her head. Brendan was surprised when he saw her look across to where Pukh was standing and lock eyes with the Lord of Tir na nOg. Pukh’s eyes narrowed and then he smiled.
Sensing Brendan watching her, Charlie looked up. As soon as she met his gaze, she slid her eyes away, as if she were ashamed to look at him. Brendan wondered again what Charlie’s heated conversation with Lugh had been about. Nevertheless, he was glad she was here.
Finally, Brendan looked to Merddyn. The old man’s face was serene, his ancient eyes as deep as the sea. When that gaze met his, Brendan felt calmness settle over him as he stepped in to meet his fate, a confidence that he had no business feeling. He wondered if Merddyn had subtly worked some glamour on him. Then Merddyn closed the circle. A sheet of energy flared around the combatants and then died, though both of them knew the barrier was in place.
Brendan faced his opponent. Lugh was easily half a metre taller than him. His long arms hung loosely at his sides in lazy readiness. The long face held no emotion, no clue as to his intention, so when his first blow raked out, Brendan had to react quickly and duck under the massive hand that clawed at him.
The fight was on.
The high stakes and the danger to his friends and sister all helped Brendan slip naturally into a warp state, but it wasn’t easy to maintain it. He was distracted by the noise of the crowd shouting around him. He had thought he was home free after the Proving, and he’d let his guard down. Now he was fighting for his life. He had to focus.
Chester’s advice to stay outside Lugh’s reach was easier said than done. His opponent was so tall that when he swung an arm at him, Brendan had to dance dangerously close to the edge of the circle. He inadvertently bumped the barrier twice, scorching his left shoulder and his ankle. Lugh kept up a constant barrage of attacks that kept Brendan on the defensive.
Brendan’s training with Saskia had given him a basic understanding of hand-to-hand combat. But nothing could have prepared him for the ferocity of a true fight. Lugh was intent on hurting him, drawing blood. He wanted to cripple him and finish the fight. Brendan had to want to do the same. He had his hands full just keeping out of the reach of the tall Faerie’s hatchet-like hands. Lugh didn’t even break a sweat. Brendan had a vague strategy in mind: let the big guy wear himself out early and then look for an opening. Lugh didn’t seem to be tiring at all. Instead, Brendan found that he himself was breathing hard. He tried to keep his feet moving and prayed for Lugh to make some mistake he could take advantage of.
At last, he saw a chance. Lugh overbalanced after a massive swing that Brendan managed to avoid by a hair’s breadth. Brendan stepped inside the arc of the swing and cocked his fist for a blow to Lugh’s face. For a fraction of an instant, Brendan hesitated. He’d never hurt anyone on purpose in his life. After landing a blow on Saskia, which had been more accidental than premeditated, he’d been guilt-ridden, though she’d laughed it off. Now, faced with the prospect of hurting another person intentionally, he balked.
Lugh took advantage of his scruples, cracking Brendan in the cheekbone with a sharp elbow on his backswing. Brendan felt like a train had hit him. Pain exploded in his head and he staggered against the barrier of the circle. Purple lightning stung his back and flung him to his knees.
He was dimly aware of the crowd shouting, some in delight, most with dismay. He had trouble clearing his vision. He tried to stand, but his limbs seemed to be hung with lead. Something warm dripped from his chin. Raising his face, he saw something looming over him. A building? It was a tree, and the tree had a face. The tree was grinning.
“Brendan!” a voice was shouting. “Get up, Brendan!” He knew that voice. He blinked. Some of the fuzziness left his vision, but his head still buzzed. He saw the tree wasn’t a tree at all but a man. The man was rearing back with his arm raised. That didn’t seem good to Brendan. It seemed very bad. The arm, a giant fist attached, raced toward his skull like the head of a sledgehammer. Brendan frowned.
I don’t think so, he said to himself. He saw the air in front of the fist. He saw the tiny particles of matter that formed the air he breathed and the vastly larger motes of dust that ploughed through them. He sent a thought out to the particles, suggesting they gather in the path of the fist. They did so, reluctantly at first, but then quicker and quicker until they formed a dense, gluey soup, slowing the fist in its advance. Brendan praised the tiny particles, thanking them for their help. They responded by calling more of their fellows, and soon the fist was completely arrested.
Lugh’s fist halted a centimetre from Brendan’s forehead. The silver-haired Faerie’s face was a parody of shock. He looked at his fist in disbelief. He leaned with all his weight on the invisible barrier but to no avail.
The crowd watched in awed silence. They couldn’t understand what was happening. Only Merddyn and Pukh, standing side by side, were not shocked. There was an eager gleam in Pukh’s eye and Merddyn smiled benignly.
“He sees,” Pukh whispers.
“Indeed,” Merddyn agreed. “He has the gift.”
Brendan, in the meantime, was finding it difficult to keep his little army of particles motivated. This was not their normal state and they longed to be free.
Just one more thing and you are free, Brendan assured them. He asked them for one last burst of cohesion. The particles responded. They collapsed inward around Lugh’s fist in a sudden spasm. A loud crack resounded in the hushed silence.
