that he had new instructions he looked much more composed. ‘You may all enter but only the Son of Duir may speak.’
I felt like saying no deal again and sending him back inside but it was getting cold. ‘Is that all right with you guys?’
Brendan spoke in English again. ‘If I want to say something once I get in there – who’s gonna stop me?’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ I said. ‘Spideog, are you OK with this?’
The archer nodded but I could see he didn’t like it.
‘Araf, do you think you can manage not talking for a while?’ I smiled at him but he gave nothing back. u can always count on Araf.
I nodded to the Brownie, who looked very relieved that he didn’t have to face his master again with a problem. He motioned for us to follow and pushed open the double doors. Two other Brownies were waiting inside the entrance of a surprisingly long hallway. They fell into step on either side of us. The Yew House it seems was just a front; the dwelling was carved directly into the mountain. As we walked, our footsteps echoed in the lengthy and increasingly dark corridor.
Brendan leaned over my shoulder and said, ‘Well, Dorothy, what are you going to ask the wizard for?’
A large carving of Eioho, the Yew Rune, marked the end of the stone hallway. To the right a couple of Brownies opened two wooden doors and gestured for us to enter; they didn’t follow and closed the doors behind us. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the light. The high vaulted ceiling had glass discs inset into the stone which put out as much light as any electric fixture in the Real World. The light bounced dramatically off the black seamless polished marble floors that I assumed to be the stone the mountain was made of. The walls were panelled with yew wood. Mom had told me about how difficult it was for her to earn the tiny wand she received from a yew tree – it made me wonder what kind of power the builder of this house must have. As my eyes adjusted I saw the Oracle in the centre of the room. He was seated in a huge chair, or I guess I should call it a throne, made from the severed trunk of a yew tree – its roots spread out at the bottom like the appendages of a starfish. The discs from the ceiling spewed tight beams of light all around but not directly on him. He wore plain black robes that rippled in the cool breeze. His face was illuminated from the reflection off the black marble. It gave the same appearance as when a boy scout puts a flashlight under his chin to tell a spooky story around a campfire. The room went on for a distance that I could not make out. No one spoke for ages.
I’m not good with uncomfortable silences, so I broke it. ‘Nice digs you got here.’
‘The Son of the One-Handed Prince,’ he said in a whispery voice that seemed as if it was unused to speaking. ‘I have heard about you.’
‘What did you hear?’
‘I have heard that you are impertinent.’
‘Yeah, I get that a lot. Have you heard anything good about me?’ There was no reply so I continued. ‘By the way, I’m no longer the Son of the One-Handed Prince.’
‘Are you saying Ona was wrong?’
‘No, Ona’s prophecy was spot on but it wasn’t about me. It was about Fergal of Ur – Cialtie’s son.’
‘Cialtie has no son.’
For the first time I saw a movement in the back of the room. It was hard to see in this light but it looked like there was a hooded figure towards the back of it.
‘Well, if that’s what he told you – he lied. I was there when Cialtie met his son, I was there when he killed him and I was definitely there when my uncle lost his hand.’
The Oracle leaned forward on his throne. The change in light allowed me to see him more clearly. He was old. Not decrepit old but at least young grandfatherortawith lines on his face and silver hair that blew in the wind, like a singer in a Bollywood music video. For The Land this guy looked ancient. He also looked scarily crazy. He leaned back into the gloom and said, ‘You came all of this way to bring me this news?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I know that you helped Cialtie retake his Choosing with my father’s hand.’
This startled the old guy. ‘He told you that?’
‘No,’ I said quickly, sensing that it was a bad idea to get this guy agitated. ‘I did the math. Spideog saw Cialtie coming down from this mountain just before he retook his Choosing. Since no one in The Land knows how he did this, it stands to reason that you advised him.’
A smile came to his face that in the light sent a shiver down my spine. ‘So you came to prove that you are clever as well as impertinent?’
‘No, sir, I came to ask if you would help my father.’
‘Why has he not come himself?’
‘He’s dying. His new hand and his body are in conflict. It is killing him.’
‘Your trip is wasted then, Conor of Duir. I would have no idea how to save him from such a singular malady – no one in The Land would.’
‘I’m not looking for a cure, sir, only directions.’
‘Directions?’ He looked confused but interested. ‘Directions to where?’
‘To where I can find the blood of a tughe tine.’
You would think that a wise old oracle would have a better poker face, but when he heard this he definitely twitched before he regained his composure. ‘I’m sorry you wasted a trip but I know nothing of the place of which you speak.’
‘I think you do.’
‘You have charm, young prince, that has allowed me to forgive your impertinence but my patience is running thin.’
‘The first Turlow came to you for the same advice. You told the Grey Ones how to find it.’
The Oracle threw his head back and laughed. As he did I noticed the hooded person, who had been lurking in the shadows the entire time, running out of the back of the room.
‘You climbed all of this way to quote a nursery rhyme intended to keep children out of the sea? I am weary. Leave.’
‘No,’ came a voice from behind me. It was Brendan.
‘You were instructed not to speak, Druid,’ the Oracle hissed in a way that made me think that maybe we all should calm down.
‘I’m not a Druid, I’m a policeman.’
‘And what is a policeman?’
‘I am – a seeker of truth and I don’t believe you when you say you don’t-’
It was just a flick of the Oracle’s wrist but Brendan went over like he had been slugged by a heavyweight. Spideog pulled his bow off his shoulder and was just rhing for an arrow when his bowstring snapped and sliced a gash in his face. Then his bow exploded as he was thrown twenty yards into the air before back-sliding along the polished floor into the wall.
A loud gale of wind whipped around the room. Araf and I looked at each other and wordlessly decided to get the hell out of there. It’s a good thing Araf doesn’t speak often ’cause I had a gut feeling that the next guy that lipped off to the Oracle was going to have his head exploded.
The Imp hoisted the unconscious Brendan on his shoulder and we both backed out of the room. ‘Sorry to bother you,’ I shouted as complacently as I could, ‘and thanks for your help. We gotta be going now.’ When I got to Spideog, I unceremoniously grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him out. We pushed through the exit expecting to be clobbered at any minute. As the doors slammed shut I could have sworn I heard laughter coming from within. The Oracle was definitely off my Christmas card list.
The Brownies on the other side of the doors were beside themselves with terror. They buzzed around, high stepping like little kids in need of a pee.
‘What did you say to him?’ one asked. I ignored him while I loosened Spideog’s neckerchief.
Brendan croaked, ‘What happened?’ and Araf gently placed him back on his feet.
‘I’ll explain later. Right now I think we should get out of here.’
I held my ear against Spideog’s mouth – he was still breathing. ‘Araf, can we swap invalids?’ I went over and steadied Brendan while Araf hoisted the old archer on his shoulder like he was a sack of ping-pong balls. Spideog grunted, which I took as a good sign.
The long corridor was longer on the way out. Brownies flitted around telling us to hurry while constantly
