‘How are you going to look? If there was any light around here I wouldn’t have smashed into the damn rock.’
Essa turned her palms face up in front of her and closed her eyes and whispered, ‘Lamprog.’
A light twinkled in the distance and came at us, and as it got closer I actually had to shield my eyes. It was one of those nuclear-powered fireflies. Another came from behind me. They landed on Essa’s fingers as she looked at my bruised shin. ‘It’s only a little bump, you baby’
‘Hey, you’re the one that’s making the big deal out of it. I just said I hurt my leg. You’re the one who went all Florence Nightingale on me.’
‘Florence who?’
‘Never mind, why don’t we just sit here for a while.’
She sat opposite me, cross-legged. A firefly landed on each knee, she whispered to them and they dimmed.
‘Can you teach me the firefly trick, or is it a chick thing?’
‘I don’t know what a chick thing is but you have to be a bit of a sorcerer to do it. Since Deirdre is your mother, I think you could be taught.’
She smiled at me, her face bathed in firefly light. She was beautiful and I desperately wanted to kiss her, but the last time I kissed her-she decked me.
Like she was reading my mind, she said, ‘I’m sorry I hit you back there in the Reedlands.’
‘Don’t worry about it. It was a learning experience. Next time I’m in a life-or-death situation with a beautiful woman-I’ll ask before I kiss her.’
‘I didn’t hit you because of the kiss. I hit you because you sounded like you were giving up.’
‘So you liked the kiss then?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she said, smiling a Mona Lisa-like smile that I couldn’t quite read.
I returned her smile with a swashbuckling grin. ‘Let me put it this way-if I were to kiss you now, would you punch my lights out again?’
‘I’m not sure, that is just the chance you will have to take.’
I looked deep into her eyes. I had to make sure I was reading this right. The girl packed a serious punch and I had had enough concussions for a week-hell, for a lifetime. I held her gaze and her eyes gave it away. She wasn’t looking for a fight. I was sure of it. At least, I think I was. If I got this wrong, I decided I was going to become a monk.
I leaned in and so did she. There is nothing like a first kiss. When I was a kid I remembered complaining about how slow the first kiss scenes in the movies were-now I know that that’s exactly what they are like. Seconds take forever and the anticipation is exquisite.
So what was that first kiss with Essa like? I didn’t find out. Araf came bounding up to us, shouting our names in the dark. We were both on our feet in a second.
‘Araf, what is it?’
‘Fergal’s gone,’ he said, ‘and he has taken your sword.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Where could he have gone?’ Essa asked. Araf shrugged.
‘I know where he’s gone,’ I said. ‘He’s going to kill Cialtie.’
‘That’s madness!’ Essa said.
‘I don’t think Fergal is thinking all that straight at the moment.’
‘I’ll head south,’ Araf said. ‘He might try to get out the way we came in. May I borrow a firefly?’
Essa mumbled. One of her fireflies danced into Araf’s hand and he was off.
‘I’ll talk to the Fili and see if they can help,’ Essa said, and ran off, leaving me alone and in pitch darkness.
‘Hey!’ I shouted into the black. I couldn’t see a thing and I had no idea where I was, so I did something I had always wished I could do. I shouted-‘MOM!’
Deirdre was there within the minute. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I’m lost and can’t see a damn thing.’
Deirdre spoke quickly to a nearby tree and picked up a pinecone. She smeared it with a bit of sap and ignited it. When she handed it to me I was half expecting to be burnt, but the Shadowfire felt of nothing.
‘Fergal is missing and he took my sword. I think he is trying to get to Castle Duir.’
‘Oh my gods! He will never get past the blackthorns.’
‘Will they hurt him?’
‘They will kill him if he tries to cut through.’
‘You have got to stop them.’
Mom whipped out her wand and touched it to the ground. A small plant pushed through the grass. Mom touched it with a finger. After what seemed like an eternity, she stood.
‘He’s this way,’ she said, pointing west.
‘Is he OK?’
‘I don’t know. He is contained. We had better hurry’
We found him in the same area where Dad and I found the Pooka. Unlike the Pooka, Fergal wasn’t on the other side of the blackthorns, but then again he wasn’t on this side either. He was in the thorn wall. He had tried to climb the thorns at the same time that Deirdre had spoken to them. Instead of stabbing him, the thorns encircled him. He was off the ground and trussed up like a smoked ham in an Italian supermarket. It must have hurt like hell. The only thing he could move was his head. And let me tell you-he was not happy about it. He was beyond words, thrashing his head, cursing and ranting with sounds that were before language, like a high-pitched mad dog. His mouth was foaming to match.
Mom took some sap out of her satchel and spoke to a nearby tree, then threw the sap into the air. The top of the tree exploded into flame and light-Shadowfire.
‘Fand will be here in a few minutes,’ she said.
‘Can you let him out?’
‘I think we should wait till he calms down. Fand will have something.’
‘Can I climb up to him without the thorns perforating me?’
Mom placed her hands on the thorn wall and said, ‘Go ahead.’
The spikes turned away from me as I climbed. Fergal was still raving when I reached his eye level. He noticed me and his head whipped in my direction-there was murder in his eyes. Mom was right-if we had let him go, I think he would have attacked us. His mind had snapped.
Fand and some other Fili appeared out of the darkness. They had run without any lights-amazing. Upon seeing Fergal, Fand put away the vial she was holding and took out some greenish sap. She lifted the cuff of Fergal’s trousers and rubbed the stuff on his skin. Fergal snarled at her but then started to relax. Mom released him enough for me to get a hold of his shirt and lower him down to the throng of waiting Fili hands. Fergal winced but didn’t fight. I jumped down, and the blackthorns creaked back to their original position. Fand sat Fergal up. She was just about to give him something that would knock him out when he opened his eyes and saw me.
‘Conor?’ he said. The mad dog that had taken over his face was gone. He was Fergal again, without the smile.
‘I’m here, Fergal.’
‘He’s my father,’ he said. His voiced quivered and his eyes welled with tears.
‘Yes,’ I said. What else could I say? It’s OK, Fergal, don’t worry about it? That would be a lie. One thing this was not-was OK.
‘Oh, Conor.’ He sounded like he was five years old. ‘He killed my mother.’
I put my arms around him. His head shook on my shoulder with silent sobs, his warm tears fell down my
