Lugh howled in pain. Brendan thanked the particles and allowed them to disperse. While Lugh staggered back, cradling the wrist of his now fractured hand, Brendan stood and wiped the blood from his cheek. The pain had dwindled slightly to a dull throb. He watched his opponent take deep breaths, trying to calm the agony in his broken hand.
“Do you give up?” Brendan asked. He didn’t see how Lugh could continue the fight.
Lugh raised his grey eyes in an icy glare. Those eyes were so full of hatred that Brendan almost took a step backwards. Lugh let his useless hand drop to his side. “I do not yield to you, Princeling. I will not yield while I still breathe.”
“This is a fight until someone can’t fight anymore. You’re badly hurt. Don’t you think you should give up? Save us any more pain?”
Lugh grinned, showing sharp incisors. “You believe what you will, little boy. We’re in the circle now. None may interfere.” Reaching inside his tunic, he drew out a long, glittering dagger, its blade an opaque sliver of crystal. The edge flashed in the light, hungry for blood. The crowd erupted in shouting and jeering.
Brendan looked to Merddyn, but the old Faerie didn’t move to intervene.
“You must stop them,” Deirdre begged him.
“Have a little faith in your nephew, Deirdre,” Merddyn said.
A roar washed over the crowd and the people parted to reveal a lion with gnashing golden teeth. It launched itself against the barrier. The barrier erupted in purple energy, flinging the magnificent creature back, its pelt smoking. Immediately, the beast sprung to its feet and launched itself against the circle again with the same result. Saskia was instantly at the lion’s side.
“Stop, Leonard,” she cried, burying her face in the lion’s mane. “You’re only hurting yourself.”
The creature’s fur rippled and flowed until Leonard lay there in her arms, his skin scorched and his hair smoking. His eyes were wild with fury.
“This isn’t what we agreed!” Deirdre cried. She lunged forward but Greenleaf caught her arm.
“The circle is closed. It cannot be broken,” Greenleaf said.
“This must stop,” Ariel demanded.
“There’s nothing that can be done,” Pukh said, his face a mask of regret. “The circle is sacred.”
“Merddyn,” Deirdre begged. “You must break it.”
Merddyn shook his head. “I will not interfere. This, more than any other trial, is Brendan’s true Proving.”
In frustration, Deirdre spun away, her fists clenched.
Kim stepped up to the barrier behind Brendan and whispered urgently, “Break the circle, Brendan. You’ve done it once. You can do it again.”
Brendan shook his head, never taking his eyes from Lugh’s. “I don’t cheat.”
“Wake up. Lugh’s already broken the rules. He and Pukh want to kill you. They’re afraid of you.”
Brendan spared her a glance and a wry smile. “You think so? Wait until I beat this creep. They’ll really have something to be scared of.”
“Brendan… ” she pleaded, but he cut her off.
“No, Kim. I’ve got to show them that no matter what they do, they won’t beat me. If I lose, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
He saw Maya’s eyes widen with hungry delight and stepped aside instinctively as Lugh lunged at him. The blade skittered with a flash of sparks across the barrier where Brendan had been standing the instant before. Lugh checked his momentum, spinning and crouching with the knife extended, his broken hand hanging limp at his side.
Brendan sidestepped lightly around the outer edge of the circle, keeping his opponent as far away as he could.
“You can’t run forever, Brendan Morn.”
“Come over and get me, Lugh. I’ll break your other hand for you,” Brendan said with a bravado he didn’t really feel. Lugh was still plenty dangerous, and the knife was an unwelcome addition.
Without warning, Lugh lunged at him. Feinting high, he came in with a sweeping slash that Brendan almost managed to avoid, willing himself to become as thin as possible. Despite his best efforts, the tip of the blade opened a long wound down the ribs of his left side. White fire sizzled in the wound. Lugh didn’t give him a respite, slashing back and forth swiftly. Brendan, his T-shirt quickly soaking through with his own blood, wove back and forth, finally leaping up, stepping onto Lugh’s shoulder, and pitching himself into a somersault. He landed easily on the floor in a crouch. Lugh spun to see Brendan waiting for him and sneered before renewing his assault.
Dmitri, Harold, Chester, and Delia huddled together and tried to watch the contest. It was impossible to follow. The movements of the combatants were blindingly fast, blurs of speed punctuated by moments of relative stillness as Brendan and Lugh sized each other up between attacks.
“I had no idea Brendan could do this stuff,” Dmitri said in awe.
“I wish I had my sketchbook,” Harold said wistfully.
“You guys!” Delia sneered. “This isn’t some school field trip. This creep is trying to kill Brendan!”
“What do you care?” Dmitri said quietly. “He isn’t really your brother.”
Delia glared at Dmitri. “That’s not fair.”
Chester shrugged. “Don’t worry. He’ll beat this dude.”
“How can you be sure?” Delia asked.
“He’s made the guy mad and anger makes you sloppy,” Chester explained. “Wait and see.”
Inside the circle, Brendan and Lugh were partners in an intricate dance. They improvised the steps as they went along. It was a strange sort of dance with the partners never touching, avoiding each other by the narrowest of margins. Lugh’s face was a mask of anger and frustration while Brendan’s held a blank calm, though the sweat was streaming down his face. The battle went on and on with neither gaining the upper hand. Both were suffering from their injuries but they didn’t let up. Brendan had lost his aversion to harming Lugh after the knife became part of the equation. Now it was a matter of survival.
In the end, Brendan’s injuries caught up with him. Blood from the wound on his ribs dripped down his side and onto the floor, making the footing slippery. The floor was one massive sheet of polished oak, nurtured and crafted by generations of Masters of the Green Arts. The surface was slick at the best of times, but with his smooth-soled running shoes and the blood on the floor, Brendan lost his balance and fell with a crash onto his back. In an instant, Lugh was on him, slamming a massive foot onto his chest and pinning him to the floor. Brendan strained against the weight, but the tall Faerie held him fast. Brendan ceased struggling and looked up into the face of his assailant.
“Well fought,” Lugh said with a leer. “Few could press me the way you have. You should be proud of yourself in the moment before I send you to the Far Lands.”
“Stop this!” Deirdre begged from outside the circle. “This is pointless.”
Pukh shook his head in a show of great sorrow. “Alas, what can we do? The circle cannot be broken.”
BLT raced around and around the circle. “Do it, Brendan! Break the circle!”
Kim shrieked at Brendan. “Break it! Break it, Brendan! Show him!”
Brendan turned his head to Kim. “Don’t be afraid. It’s all right!” He turned back and smiled up at Lugh. “Do your worst.”
Lugh grinned savagely and raised the dagger above his head.
Brendan didn’t move. The fear he had felt when he’d stepped into the circle with Lugh was gone. He felt only calm. During the frenzy of the fight, he had found a quiet place in the centre of his heart. He recalled the song that his aunt had drawn from him during the Proving and let it fill his being, guide his movements. He recalled the conversation with Merddyn in the doughnut shop and had a moment of wonderful clarity. He saw the blade glinting in the light and the strings of tiny crystals that made up its structure. The words he had heard while trapped inside the stone came to him with sudden urgency. All things are one. As the deadly point of the dagger quivered, ready to seek his heart, Brendan saw what he had to do. The thought of it made him laugh.
Lugh paused, a puzzled expression on his dour face. “Why do you laugh?”
“All things are one!” Brendan said. He grinned like a fool and focused his mind, seeing the change he wished to make and willing it to occur.
Lugh’s weapon shimmered, quivered. Then the solid substance of the dagger began to flow into a new form.
