hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Do you take the blade?” he asked solemnly.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I do.”
“So be it.” Suddenly he whirled, his face blanching, his gaze raking the recesses of the cave. “The spirits speak. They say... they say... you must go now, Ardagh Ni Unjin! You must hurry!”
I shook my head , unnerved by the sudden change in him. “But why? There is much we should speak of!”
“Do not question, just go!” He shoved at my back. I could feel his hands trembling. “Let the spirits and your own sense guide you…I can do no more!”
“Oulagh !” I turned around clutched Oulagh’s bony wrist; her eyes looked glassy and fearful like her husband’s. “What is happening? Tell me!”
“No time to explain!” she cried harshly, thrusting me forward. Children started to wail in the shadows; cauldrons and tools clunked and clanked as I clumsily bashed into them in my wild panic to leave. “Go as you were bid!”
I fled from the cave into the nigh t. Outside, the fields were lightless, untouched by the Lady Moon, whose pale round face had vanished into a threatening bank of cumulous cloud. A chill wind whined in the grasses, moaning a funeral dirge. My heart thudded and the leaf-bladed sword in my hands felt heavy as a stone. I guessed something was amiss and I halted, quivering, head flung back like that of a startled beast.
And then the wind blew again , shrieking through dead elms clustered on the hillside… and on its breath came the reek of burning thatch and worse. My stomach lurched, and then I hurtled toward my father’s village.
The sight that greeted me would have sickened t he doughtiest warrior. Every hut, those places where I’d spent my life weaving, baking, dreaming, blazed like a beacon, the thatching alight and belching flames and smoke. And the villagers…those men and women I had known since I was born, some funny, some fierce, some my friends and some my rivals lay locked within the wall of flames, unmoving, their bodies blackened by the heat of the fire. I could see no one alive. At first I could not accept that this was anything but an act of an angry god—perhaps a lightning-bolt from grumbling Ta-ahn of the Thunder—or maybe it even was something simple but tragic: a spark from one of the cook fires that had caught and spread with the wind. But then I saw, gleaming coldly, the broken blade of a dagger, a dagger of iron. The invaders had come as foretold, and they were indeed without any mercy.
Sobs tearing at my chest, I turned from that awful sight and ran back toward Tulkar’s cave. The night drove in at me, filling me with terror, making me see ghosts in the shapes of stones and leering ghouls amid the fleeting clouds. My head spun and I retched dryly over and over. As I neared Haddery Burn, I noticed with a sinking heart that the cave’s mouth was black, lightless. I hurried on nonetheless, scrambling up the path that led into the cavern.
Haddery Burn stood empty . Dirt clogged the hearth, and Tulkar’s treasures had been removed. “No! I screamed, tearing at my windblown hair. “Tulkar, Oulagh, don’t leave me!” They were the last people I’d seen alive, the only people I knew still breathed. And they were gone.
Like my tribe.
Like my father who would have been at the heart of the burning village, fighting an invaders until his last breath…
I rushed outside the empty cavern, wailing and howling, half out of my mind with grief and fear. I did not care if the invaders heard me, for in those dreadful moments I wished for death, but the attackers had gone, and numb with grief I wandered aimlessly out into the darkness...
Soon I found myself on the edge of Stonydale Moor, where long ago my people had built a temple and a vast burial ground. I bit my lip in consternation. My arrival at Stonydale could be no accident. Ancestral spirits must have guided me to such a place.
Following a beaten track, I picked my way across the moor and
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