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"You might wish you died, but you won't. Not from the pain of Lamh Shabhala or withdrawal from the leaf. Perhaps from the Ri's soldiers, if they find us."

She remembered, suddenly, O'Deoradhain standing before the bridge, and it falling. . "The bridge," she said. "You said you knew other magics, but you also said they were slow and weaker. That was neither slow nor weak."

If Jenna’s praise pleased him, he didn’t show it.

His face was grim and sad. "Aye, much slower and weaker they are. But that spell was set earlier, before we met in the ravine and once the keystones were gone on the arches, the bridge itself did the rest. I thought that if we were to need to flee from the keep, that we would also need a way to slow up the pursuit. The spell took several at least a candle stripe or two of preparation, but then it was already done and set-all I had to do was speak the words."

He lifted his head to scan the shore, turning the tiller and adjusting the sail. "There, that’s as good a spot as we’re likely to find." A few minutes later, the keel grated on a tiny, pebbled beach along a small cove. Starlight dappled the tops of the trees on the shore while they held impenetrable darkness underneath, but across the lough and to the south, Jenna could see the yellow light of Lar Bhaile. O’Deoradhain leaped from the boat into the shallow water. Extending his good hand, he helped Jenna from the craft.

"I can’t walk far," she told him.

"I know, but come dawn we’d be all too visible on the lough’s shore." ’They’ll see the boat anyway and know where we landed." O’Deoradhain shook his head. "No," he said simply. He helped her up the bank to dew-wet grass. Then he went back down to the beach and shoved the prow of the boat away from shore. Jenna heard the bottom of the craft grinding against the bed of the lough, yet the boat continued to move outward. She saw two dark forms, blacker than the night, break the water’s surface alongside the hull. Blue light shimmered from their bodies Water splashed, the foam white, and the boat moved out into deeper water, floating free. The bow turned and faced south and east and it began to move away from them. O’Deoradhain came back to her and stood watching until they could no longer see the boat past the bend of the shore. He said nothing; Jenna decided she would not, either, though she wondered: Were those seals? O’Deoradhain held out his hand to her. "We need to go as far as we can tonight," he said. "They’ll find the boat tomor-row just south of Lar Bhaile, on the eastern side. If the Mother-Creator smiles on us, it will be a few days before they start looking on the western shore."

"And where are we going?"

O'Deoradhain shrugged. "North. To Inish Thuaidh."

"No," Jenna said.

"No?" In the darkness, it was difficult to see his face, but Jenna could hear his scowl and sigh of exasperation. "Holder, in the morning, all of Gabair will be out looking for you. When word reaches Dun Laoghaire, the Rl Ard will have his troops sent searching as well, and Tuath Con-nachta might very well consider this a wonderful opportunity to come look for you themselves. The other tuatha may do the same. Your only safety is to be gone from here as quickly as we can, and Inish Thuaidh is where you can best learn to use the power you have."

"No," Jenna repeated. She looked up, to where the wind tousled the heads of the trees. She could see nothing but the night sky and stars above them, but she could feel the first shy touch of mage-lights at the zenith. She knew that they would appear soon, no more than two stripes from now, and she was tired. So tired. No! she wanted to scream to them. Not tonight. I can't. .

She struggled to her feet, staring into the darkness of the trees. She remembered other trees, the dark twisted oaks that stretched close to the shore of the lough, Seancoim's tenderness and aid… "I'm going to Doire Coill."

O'Deoradhain loosed a scoffing breath. "I didn't snatch you from the Ri's gardai to have you die under the haunted oaks."

Jenna shrugged. She took a halting step-it took more effort than she thought. "I've been through those oaks once before. I think I'm safer there than on the road. If you don't want to come with me, then I'll thank you for your rescue, Ennis O'Deoradhain, and may the path to your home be easy." Another step. She forced herself to stay upright. She turned toward the trees and forced her legs to keep moving. Suddenly she felt O'Deoradhain beside her, his hand under her arm, supporting her. When she glanced at him, he was shaking his head.

"Is it true, what they say of Doire Coill?" he asked.

Jenna nodded. "Aye. And yet no. The forest is old and alive in a way that other woods are not, and things live there that are dangerous. But Doire Coill is also beautiful, and none of the tales that I heard ever spoke of that. I have a friend there…" She closed her eyes, the weariness coming over her again. She looked back across the lake to the town, as if she could see the commotion and upset there. She had thought she had a friend there as well and she had left behind the one person whom she knew loved her unconditionally. Mam, I’m so sorry. 1 hope I will see you again. . "At least I think he’s a friend," she finished.

O’Deoradhain took a long breath. Let it out again. "Then I suppose it would be a shame for me to miss seeing the forest while I’m so close."

Two stripes and more passed while they walked to the west at as fast a pace as Jenna could manage. They crossed the High Road a half mile from the lough, moving across the stone fences into a field dotted with small trees that must have once been farmland but was now long abandoned. A line of darkness loomed at the ridge of the hills just beyond the field, and as they approached, they saw the twisted, tall forms of oaks against the starlit sky. "Doire Coill?" O’Deoradhain asked, and Jenna nodded.

"Seancoim said it came close to the lough at places. We’re lucky."

"Or not." O’Deoradhain scowled at the forest. "It feels like the trees are watching us."

"They are," Jenna answered. She glanced at the sky and thought she could see wisps of color curling above. "Hurry," she said. "I won’t be able to go much farther." O’Deoradhain glanced at the sky also, though he said nothing. His arm went around her waist, and he helped her forward over the rough ground.

The hill was steeper and taller than it had appeared from the High Road. As they climbed, resting often, the two could look back over the ground they’d covered and see Lough Lar glimmering beyond the trees and, faintly on the horizon, the hills where the city lay. There were trees now as they neared the ridge, still widely spaced but undeniably the off-spring of the ancient oaks of Doire Coill. As they started down into the valley beyond, the trees came suddenly closer together, and they had to walk carefully to avoid tripping over roots or being smacked in the head by

low-hanging branches. At the bottom of the hill, they came across a small stream meandering through the wood, and Jenna sank to the ground. "No more," she said. "I'm too tired."

"Jenna, we're two miles from the lough. Maybe less. We should move on."

Jenna shook her head. "It doesn't matter. They'll know where I am soon enough." She pointed to the sky overhead through the winter-dry leaves and netted branches. Light burned there, brightening even as they watched. As the mage-lights grew, Jenna felt the desire in her to take their energy grow as well, overwhelming the exhaustion. She struggled to her feet again and took the cloch's chain from around her neck. She placed the stone in her right hand, forcing the fingers to close around it.

The mage-lights seemed to feel Lamh Shabhala’s presence; they swelled, flashing like blue and green lightnings directly above her. She 1 heard O'Deoradhain gasp. The power of the mage-lights crackled and hissed in her ears, and it seemed she could almost hear words in the din, speaking a language so old that it awakened ancestral memories in her blood. The scars on her arm seemed to glow, echoing the patterns in the sky above, and she lifted her hand, watching the colors converge and fuse over her. A funnel, a tongue slipped down from the display, bending and 1 twisting until it touched her hand, engulfing it.