"What has happened here?" he asked and eyed Tomas with distaste.
"I wish I knew. I did something with magic and I can't say it was one of my brighter ideas. It hurts like hell."
He stared at me hard. Then he snorted. "You have shared your life with Breandan, but you are not strong enough to sustain it."
I had? I nodded weakly and my attention shifted to what the fairy-man was doing with my fairy-boy. He winced at the pole and gingerly avoided touching it.
"It is iron," he rumbled.
"Who are you?" I asked. When he did not answer, the corners of my mouth pulled down but with no time to go into the specifics of good manners, I turned to Conall, "We don't like iron?"
"It drains our strength and is poison to us. It burns." He paused and made a small waving gesture with his hand, as if brushing off an errant thought. "There are stories of iron-working fairies, but such a one is rare. I have never met one in my lifetime."
I remembered how weak I had felt when I touched it, how all my energy had drained away. Then I remembered the sizzling of flesh when Cleric Tu had cut Maeve's face. Iron drained our strength, and burned us when it touched an open wound. How quickly would we die if it was to be stabbed into us, and was there any other material that affected us so? I shuddered for the thought was hideous.
"I want you to be honest with me, I'm not too late? I mean, you can save Breandan?"
He nodded, hesitantly. "I will try, but I do not think you will like me for being able to soon." He smiled. "I did not teach you to call to another, you taught yourself?"
I grinned back at him, proud. "All I need was to be calm and focused."
My eyes darted to Tomas. I could not have done it without him.
The world blacked out, a scary thing to happen with your eyes wide open, blood pooling around you and your failing heartbeat thumping in your ears. A sweep of cold brought me to. Tomas's hand was leaving my forehead.
Conall smacked his hand away. Hissed. "Watch yourself," he said.
Tomas tried to touch me again with the same result. "Touch me again and you'll lose that hand, fairy," he growled and rolled onto his haunches.
I couldn't bear it if they started fighting. The importance of the moment held fast I opened my mouth. "Please stop."
All eyes snapped to my face.
The fairy-man stood, and lifted his chin at Conall, before glaring at me again. I took in the hard angles of his face, and the blue eye that held the warmth of a glacier, not that the green was anymore soothing. The proud set of his mouth, the shape of his jaw was so familiar I could reach out, close my eyes and map the dimensions.
"You should not be here," Conall said to Tomas and firmly pressed down on my chest wound. I barely felt the pressure of his hand.
The numbness was back, a light, seeping sensation that flowed steadily over me.
"I would rather face the sun then watch what is about to happen, but I cannot leave."
My mouth dried up. Sweat beaded my brow and ran down my temples. "What shouldn't he see?" I asked Conall in a small voice.
"Are you sure you wish for me to do this?" he asked the fairy-man, ignoring me.
He sniffed and crossed his arms across his bared chest. The muscles in his arms rippled. "You are better at healing than I. I want him whole so I can tear him apart myself."
Conall fell silent, the corner of his mouth curving up. Kneeling between Breandan and I, holding a hand over each our brows and chanted something rhythmic and urgent. The life in the forest was suspended. I sensed it was going to happen, that big pain that made you sick just to think of it. I was feeling everything Breandan felt. I'd bound my body to him and now I was dying alongside him. They were going to pull the iron pole out of Breandan and it was going to hurt. A lot. He was unconscious. I was not.
"Don't let them," I whispered.
Tomas could hear me, of course, but he was focused hard on the middle distance. I tried to yank on his arm but my fingers merely brushed his skin.
He looked down at me. His eyes burned against his stark white skin. "It'll only hurt for a little while," he said.
I stared at him. He was not going to help me.
"Take your hands off me. Let me go right now." I wiggled with renewed vigor fed by fear, and all I could do is kick the air. "Please don't hurt me anymore."
Tomas's heavy hands held my shoulders down.
The fairy-man gripped the iron pole. My stomach dropped and my heart leaped into my throat. I felt the blood drain from my head.
I screamed, "Don't!"
He cried out something harshly as he yanked the iron from Breandan's chest. My torso jerked violently. My eyes bulged and tried to escape their sockets. Stomach squeezing into nothing every muscle in my body clenched. My insides wrenched, and my heart just — stopped. Tomas held my thrashing body by the shoulders, pushing me down onto the damp, mossy floor. Conall spun round, took Breandan's head in both hands and roared. The sound was deep, vex and violent. Breandan's back contorted, arced off the floor. Writhing in agony a silent screech of pain deformed his expression. He convulsed then became languid.
Conall slumped, pressing his head on the ground.
The pain released me, and the absence of hurt was stark. I curled into a ball. Peering into Tomas's face, remarkably, my thoughts were clear and focused. I had survived the ordeal and it had felt like the end. What would have happened to Breandan?
"The next words coming out of your mouth need to be telling me he's okay," I said.
He glanced over her shoulder. There was a beat where he stilled and everything around me disintegrated but then, he breathed out and nodded. "He lives," he said and slid back.
I craned my neck to see around him, and for a moment all I could see was the broad back of the fairy-man, huddled over and blocking Breandan from my sight. Hissing in anger, I surged onto all fours. And then he shifted to the side, holding Breandan by the arm. He said something close to Breandan's ear, and my fairy-boy started, looked around wildly before our gazes locked.
I crawled forward, the effort sweetly painful. The closer I got the brighter his skin glowed. I sprung up, stumbled, and slid on a branch. Legs wobbling my tail twitched madly. The glow of Breandan's skin increased. He sat on his knees swaying; opening out his arms his face brimmed with emotion as I fell into them. The moment he clutched me I pressed my eyes closed at the brilliant light that blasted from our joined bodies, and the power that flowed through me was hot and eager. It flared, rubbing at my nature until I found myself digging my fingers into Breandan's back for fear it would sweep me away.
A startled yell echoed into the trees, and a flock of nesting birds took off into the sky. The energy drained, the light cut off and it was dark. I opened my eyes, and as my vision corrected itself I blinked to help it along.
My gaze travelled down to see someone sprawled on the floor. Tomas, whorls of sweet smelling smoke emanated rising from his body, was face up and motionless. I jerked from Breandan's grip and crawled toward him. Opening his eyes he groaned. I stopped, wary. Lightening patches on his ivory skin healed as he jumped up and wobbled unsteadily. He scowled, plainly troubled at his own lack of dexterity. He saw me, half reaching out to him and half holding back.
"I'll need to feed again," he said quietly.
My heart back flipped in my chest. I had a flash of memory, his fangs sinking into my flesh and shivered.
"Then do not let us keep you," said the fairy-man before I could answer.
Tomas's gaze twitched from mine, and he bowed his head in a show of respect. "The girl and I have personal business to attend to," he said with more than a hint of ownership in his voice. "I cannot leave."
The fairy-man returned the gesture though his mouth pressed into a thin line and a vein in his neck bulged. "Whatever debt she owes you for your help will be paid. You have my word, but you cannot come where we are to go."