No Dominion (The Walker Papers: A Garrison Report) by CE Murphy Page B

toward it. It didn’t look like all that much: black iron beaten into shape with a hammer. It was big, I’d give it that, plenty big for a man to crawl into. I nudged Imelda a step toward it, then another, and each one got easier even though good sense told me they oughta be getting harder. But it was like huddling under a down comforter, too warm and heavy to throw off. Worse, I didn’t want to throw it off. My shoulders sank and my eyes got droopy. Another step or two and I could tip off Imelda’s back into the cauldron and nap, even if part of me was screamin’ that was a bad idea. I knew it was dangerous, but it was like swimming with the current: I wanted to go where it took me an’ not fight it. No wonder Jo had hated the thing. I shook myself and sat back to tell Imelda to stop. She did, her legs rigid and her body quivering like she was just waiting for the signal to get the hell outta there.
    Cernunnos was even closer to the cauldron than I was, mesmerized by it. The stallion refused ta go any nearer, but the god leaned toward it, so drawn I could just about see ghostly hands inviting him in. Brigid said the name again, the one I couldn’t hear right, and Cernunnos snapped upright, then full-out retreated. No other word for it, and no grace or dignity to it either. He drove his heels into the stallion’s side and it jumped away, pressing itself up against a wall, as far from the cauldron as it could get.
    Once Cernunnos was out of the way, the others crowded closer, led by the kid, whose face lit up with interest. Brigid finally took the reins again and guided the mare back toward Horns. She had to put her arm around the kid’s waist to keep him from getting off the horse, but even so, she kept the mare between Cernunnos an’ the cauldron. It made me wonder if it was easier for a mortal to resist the thing than an immortal, which didn’t make sense. I’d already pushed past the limits of threescore an’ ten, and the idea of crawling inside that cauldron scared the crap outta me. I reckoned if I was risking a guaranteed forever I could just about walk up and spit in its eye, but it didn’t look like Cernunnos was that certain.
    A’course, it’d taken a near-immortal elf to create the cauldron. Maybe the longer the life, the more restful laying down the burden seemed. I figured that made me the least vulnerable rider in this room, which was an ugly thought. That said, somebody had to step up, or we were all gonna stand around here until people started jumping into the damned pot. “Horns!”
    The god of the Wild Hunt flinched, then gave me a look that shoulda peeled the skin right off me. I grinned, showing teeth. “Can you keep that kid from riding off if you put him somewhere?”
    Fury flew across his face. “Of course. I may be bound to him, but he lives by my sufferance.”
    “Mmhnn. Kid, go stand in the…” I took a second to think about it. Jo always had some kinda logic and pattern to how she built power circles. “In the west,” I decided. “You can be the opposite power, setting sun opposing youth, which might oughta be the rising sun. An’ that puts…” I thought about it again, but Cernunnos interrupted.
    “Me at the rising sun? I am the eldest here, and no doubt as his father am well suited to stand across from him.”
    I said, “Yeah,” but I didn’t mean it. “Yeah, no. Because we gotta bind this thing in your name, and I’m not sure you oughta be part of the circle if we’re gonna do that. Bridey, what do you think?”
    From her expression, I couldn’t tell what she thought, except for maybe that I was surprising her. After a thoughtful look, she shook her head. “Only four of us here are truly living. The riders have crossed beyond, and while they may someday return to mortal flesh it is not now their chosen path. The boy, myself, yourself and the lord of the Hunt must stand at the points of our compass, and Cernunnos…yes,” she finally said. “Cernunnos at the