Holder of Lightning

"Perhaps not, but I've heard the name Aoire before, in some of the tales my mam used to tell me." He seemed as though he were about to say more and Jenna looked away from the falls toward him, but Mac Ard came striding up, and O'Deoradhain went silent at the tiarna's approach.

"I have our lunch unpacked," Mac Ard said. "We could bring it out here, and eat while watching the scenery."

"That sounds lovely," Maeve said. "Excuse me. We'll go help Padraic. Jenna?"

"Coming, Mam." She turned away from the falls, catching O'Deoradhain's gaze as she did so. "What is it you want?" she asked him, as her mam walked away.

O'Deoradhain shrugged. "Probably the same thing you want. Maybe the same thing you've already found." He nodded to her and smiled.

She grimaced sourly in return, and followed her mother.

Chapter 12: The Lady of the Falls

THEY finished their lunch, and lay in the soft grass under a surprisingly warm sun. Jenna’s arm was starting to throb again with pain, and she stood up. "I’ll be right back," she said. "I’d like to take a walk."

"I’ll go with you," O’Deoradhain offered, and Jenna shook her head.

"No," she said firmly. "I’d prefer to go alone. Mam, do you mind?"

"Go on," Maeve told her. "Don’t be long."

"I won’t be." Jenna walked away north, around the curve of the cliffs toward the falls. As she approached, the clamor of the cascading water grew steadily louder, until it drowned any other sound in white noise. Greenery hung over the edge of the ravine so that it was difficult to tell where the ground ended, and the mist dusted Jenna’s hair and clothes with sparkling droplets. She moved as close to the edge as she dared. Foaming water rushed past below her, spilling down to the lough. With the touch of the mist, she thought she heard faint voices, as if hidden in the roar of the falls was a distant, whispering conversation.

At the same time, her right arm began to feel cold and heavy under the bandages, and the cloch na thintri snuggled next to her skin flared into bitter ice. Jenna stopped, rubbing at her arm and flexing her suddenly stiff fingers, moaning slightly at the renewed pain. She started to turn back, thinking that she would fix herself more of the nasty-tasting anduilleaf, but stopped, blinking against the mist. There, just ahead of her, was a break in the greenery, a narrow trail leading down toward the Duan right where it plunged over the cliff edge. She wondered how she could have missed seeing it before.

Follow. . she thought she heard the water-voices say. Follow…

She took a tentative step forward, steadying herself against the bushes to either side. The path

was steep and ill-defined, the grass underfoot slick and only slightly shorter than anywhere else, as if the trail were nearly forgotten. Once she slipped and fell several feet before she could stop herself. She almost turned back then, but just below, the path seemed to level out, curving enticingly behind a screen of scrub hawthorns. Follow. . The voices were louder now, almost audible.

She followed.

Around the hawthorns, she found herself on a ledge below the lip of the falls. Water thundered in front of her, foaming and snarling as it thrashed its way over black, mossy rocks. The ledge continued around, cutting underneath the overhanging rocks at the top of the waterfall and disappearing into darkness behind the water.

Follow. . Her arm ached, the stone burned her skin with cold. Her hair and clothes, soaked by the mists, clung to her face and body. She should go back, she knew. This was insanity-one slip, and her body would be broken on the rocks a hundred feet below.

Follow. .

But there were handholds along the cliff wall, looking as if they'd been deliberately cut, and though the ledge was crumbling at the edges, the flags appeared to have once been laid by someone's hands. She took a step, then another, clinging to the dripping wall as the water pounded a few feet in front of her.

Then she was behind the falls, and the ledge opened up. Jenna gasped in wonder. She was looking through the shimmering veil of water, and the falls caught the sunlight and shattered it, sending light dancing all around her. The air was cool and refreshing; the sound of the falls was muffled here, a constant low grumbling that seemed to emanate from the earth itself. The rock underfoot trembled with the sound. As her eyes grew accustomed to the twilight behind the falling water, Jenna saw that the ledge on which she stood opened up behind her, sloping down and into the cliff wall: a small, hidden cave. Something gleamed well back in the recess, and Jenna moved toward it, squinting into the dimness.

And she stopped, holding her breath. In a stony niche carved from the living rock of the cliff, a