‘What is it with you?’ Teardrop asked Fachtna.
‘I meant what I said. What they are doing is an abomination.’
‘I know you thought that was what you were doing, but you always have to try and impress, don’t you?’
‘I’m an impressive person,’ Fachtna said, smiling. Teardrop felt like slapping him for never taking anything seriously.
‘In this world, yes…’
‘And in the Ubh Blaosc,’ Fachtna said more quietly. Teardrop sighed. He hated having to deal with prickly warrior pride.
‘I’m not doubting your prowess, but she cannot do the things we do.’
‘She has the blood of the Muileartach and the blood of the Red Chalice. That is powerful blood magic and with your help she should be able to harness it. She will keep up.’
Britha was walking back towards them again. Teardrop did not like the look on her face. She was staring at him again. ‘Besides, she’s too much woman for you,’ he said quietly.
Fachtna grinned. ‘Such a creature would be a like a dragon. They may exist, but nobody’s ever seen one.’
‘I am beginning to understand why Uathach beat you so often.’
‘She wanted me.’
‘There was something else from my dream,’ Britha said. Fachtna noticed that as she came to a rest by the fire, she pushed her foot under the haft of her spear. ‘I saw them push a seed, like the crystals that grow in the caves, into the heads of my people. These things just seemed to sink through their skin.’ Britha waited for either of them to speak. They just watched her. Teardrop could see what was coming. ‘It looked like what I saw under the skin of your head when I bashed you.’
‘It is similar magics. From the Otherworld,’ Teardrop said.
Britha could not decide if she wanted to believe him or not.
‘It’s a fungus that they grow in his head,’ Fachtna said. Teardrop looked furious. Britha had to stifle a smile. If one of her warriors had given away a secret like that to a stranger she would have cursed them until their manhood dropped off. Not that she ever allowed the warriors to learn her secrets. She could tell that Teardrop would be having words with Fachtna in private.
‘A fungus inside the head. That makes no sense,’ she told them. ‘What would this seed do?’
‘Enslave them,’ Fachtna said.
‘No, Ettin makes them drink from a cup of demon’s blood for that,’ Britha told him.
‘It’s to hear their mindsong,’ Teardrop said quietly.
Britha turned to stare at him. ‘When they are afraid, when they are suffering, when they die in torment,’ she said. Teardrop looked at her across the fire. She could see new respect in his eyes. She did not care, though she was beginning to think that she wanted his magics. Either learned or taken, they would make her tribe stronger, if she ever found them.
‘Now you know my secrets, will you tell us one of your own?’ Teardrop asked.
‘Unlikely, but you may ask,’ Britha told him.
‘You have the blood of the Muileartach in you. How?’
Fachtna turned to look at her expectantly.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Britha said. ‘The gods are cold and cruel and do not mean us well. My people forsook them when my farthest ancestors were young.’
‘Have you drunk blood?’
‘No,’ she said uneasily. She remembered the fevered dream as she lay dying on the beach. The pool in Cliodna’s cave. Teardrop was staring at her. It was the truth-finding look; she had used it herself before. He knew.
‘Eaten flesh of the Otherworld?’
‘No!’
‘Some kind of fluid must have been exchanged,’ Fachtna said with a leer.
He was too confident of his own abilities to think that Britha would attack him. The punch was a solid blow that spread his nose across his face and squirted blood over his mouth and down his chin. The blow had been quick and delivered with a surprising amount of force. Fachtna staggered back, and Britha turned and stalked off, pulling her hood up and wrapping her robe tighter around herself.
Teardrop made enough noise walking across the pebbles to give Britha warning of his approach. She turned to look briefly at the strange creature. He was carrying an earthenware jug. Britha went back to staring at the stars, wondering if she should be insulted that men thought alcohol was the solution to her problems.
‘I found this,’ Teardrop said. ‘What sort of raiders leave the good uisge beatha?’ he took a pull of the clear liquid. ‘It’s good,’ he managed.
Britha took the jug off him and took a long swig.
‘I don’t like the sky now,’ Britha finally said.
‘Your vision?’
Britha nodded. ‘It seems angry and hateful now.’
‘I think it’s like your gods, cold and uncaring.’
‘No, our gods hated us. We would give them everything just so they would leave us alone.’ Teardrop turned to look at her. ‘Or so the stories handed from mother to mother go.’ She handed the jug back and he had some more. ‘Do you have gods?’ she asked. He smiled.
‘You know enough of us for one day, I think.’ Both of them looked up into the night sky. ‘We need to know,’ he finally said.
He certainly knew all the masks, Britha thought, just the right word magic to get what he needed. When to be listened to, when to be feared, the caring mask, the one he was wearing now. Was he using this mindsong on her as well, she wondered, because she wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell someone, and he was, after all, from the Otherworld as well. He wouldn’t, couldn’t judge.
‘Fachtna is an arrogant fool,’ she said instead.
Teardrop laughed. ‘Yes, but you must have met warriors before.’
‘Her name was Cliodna,’ Britha said. ‘She was a selkie.’
‘I have heard the name.’
‘One of the seal people, skin changers.’ Though now that she thought about it, she had never seen Cliodna in her seal form.
Teardrop looked a little confused. ‘And you drank her blood?’
‘No, I told you. Though she may have used her blood to heal me, or I may have dreamed it.’
‘Then… you were lovers?’
Britha turned to look at him defiantly. People feared those who behaved differently to them. Britha had never been able to differentiate between the desire for men and the desire for women. She could not understand why people would cut off half the oppurtunities for beauty and pleasure. Teardrop looked momentarily surprised but there was no judgement there. Then he looked amused.
‘What?’ she demanded.
‘Fachtna will be dissapointed,’ he said.
‘She turned different, angry, hateful.’ Britha hated that a tear rolled down her cheek in front of this stranger.
‘She lived in the water a lot?’
Britha nodded.
‘It sounds like she was an elder child of the Muileartach.’
‘And the gods are hateful,’ Britha said bitterly.
‘Bress is harvesting sorrow. Did she push you away?’
Britha nodded again, cursing more tears.
‘She was probably trying to protect you. She knew she was changing and there was nothing that she could do about it.’
Britha said nothing. She tried to look at the hateful sky and not the dark waters. Teardrop had learned long ago that the best thing at times like these was to let the tears run their course. He looked out over the waters to the south. He knew that that way lay Bress.
Finally Britha wiped away her tears, took the jug from Teardrop and had another long pull.
‘It was a great gift she gave you,’ Teardrop said. Britha nodded.