Holder of Lightning

There, the captain's Cloch Mor was a maelstrom of gray and black, swirling and rotating and as yet unaware of her. Psychic winds howled and screeched around it, and Jenna knew those could be directed at her as easily as they now pushed at the ship. She opened Lamh Shabhala fully, letting its radiance swell outward until it touched the cloudy black; as it did, she felt the captain's awareness shift, sensing the attack even as she brought her cloch's energy down on and around the interior storm It battered her, the winds tearing at Lamh Shabhala’s hold like a furious animal. The cloch's strength surprised Jenna, and for a moment the maelstrom nearly slipped through as doubt entered her mind. A gust of wind slammed into Jenna, sending her staggering backward. She went to her knees, gasping and taking in water from the rain and the waves, but she held onto the stone, pushing

back again at the other cloch’s dark energy

She had no choice. She could feel the power draining from Lamh Shabhala with every passing second, but she knew that the same was happening to the captain’s stone. Lamh Shabhala burned in her hand searing her flesh with ice, and she forced herself to hold tightly to it knowing she would pay afterward.

A bolt of lightning cleaved the inner vision, and from the deck there was a cry of pain and alarm.

The maelstrom faltered; Jenna pressed in against it and it collapsed completely. Jenna could see Ennis and the gardai rush the captain, taking him down.

Ennis’ hand reached down, pulling the cloch from the captain. There was a scream, a wail of wild distress and loss. The wind slowly died; the rain fell to a drizzle. The waves fell.

"Well done, Holder." The Banrion was standing at the entrance to the cabin, and Moister Cleurach emerged behind her. The crew, appearing dazed, were gazing about them in bewilderment as Ennis and the gardai dragged the captain forward. The man was weeping, and he stared at Ennis, struggling to be released. "Give it back!" he cried. "I have to have it. You must give it back!" In Ennis’ hand was a large crystalline stone, which he gave to Moister Cleurach. The older man held up the gem: a mottled smoky-gray like an approaching thunderhead.

"It’s named Stormbringer," Moister Cleurach said, his face grim. "I know it-it’s one of the clochs na thintri stolen from the Order." He walked up to the captain, now moaning in the hands of the gardai, and abruptly slapped him across the face. "Thief!" he spat. "And worse you’re a traitor." Moister Cleurach pointed eastward.

Under the clearing sky, they could all see four ships well away to the east. Three of them flew green-and-gold banners from their masts, and one green and earth-brown: Tuath Infochla’s colors, and Tuath Gabair’s. Jenna was still holding Lamh Shabhala, not daring to let it go because she was still borrowing the cloch’s strength to hold off the pain that would come. She could feel faintly, at the outer edge of the cloch’s vision, the presence of two more Clochs Mor out where the ships lurked. "You were sending us to them. You were to hand over the Banrion and the First Holder."

The man's head hung down. He didn't dare to look up at them. "My cloch," he whispered. "Please…"

"You, First Mate!" Banrion Aithne called out to one of the crewmen, who hurried forward. "You are now Captain. Bring us around and take us back to Inish Thuaidh." The man bowed, and began shouting to the crew. They hurried up the mast and started to unfurl the sail. Aithne turned back to the former captain as the Uaigneas started a slow turn back north and west, putting its stern to the waiting ships. "Your life is forfeit," she told the weeping man. "Kill him and toss the body overboard," she told the garda holding the man. "His friends may want to recover the body before the sharks find it, but I doubt it. That will end his pain." The garda's hand closed around the long knife at his belt and the captain blanched, closing his eyes. The Banrion held out her hand to Moister Cleurach. "And the Cloch Mor 1 claim for the Ri."

"No!" Jenna shouted. The garda stopped his thrust in mid-motion; Aithne's head swiveled to regard Jenna with eyes of green ice.

"No?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. "I remind you, First Holder, that you are on a ship I command."

"And you and your ship would have been in their hands and your husband paying your ransom if I hadn't been here," Jenna answered. "The cloch was stolen from the Order of Inishfeirm and cloudmages of the Order have won it back again."

Aithne sniffed. Jenna could see her considering her next words. "I sup-pose that's a fair statement," she said finally, though Jenna knew that did not reflect her true feelings. "And what would you do with the traitor, First Holder?"