Holder of Lightning

Maeve ignored Jenna’s scornful tone. "And what then?"

"I don’t know" Jenna answered heatedly. "If I did, I’d tell everyone so they’d stop asking these stupid questions of me."

She glanced up to see her mam bite her lower lip, looking away with hurt in her eyes. "I ask because 1 hate to see you in pain, Jenna," Maeve answered, her voice trembling with the sob she held back.

"I’ve been hoping that once the other clochs were open, you wouldn’t be… in so much. ." Maeve couldn’t finish. She covered her mouth with a hand, tears spilling over her eyes. Jenna wanted to go to her, to comfort her mam as she had comforted Jenna a thousand times over the years, but she couldn’t make herself move. She hid herself behind the mug of leaf-brew, sipping and inhaling the steam as she watched her mam sniff and blot her tears with the sleeve of her leine.

Jenna could see the swelling curve of her mam’s belly. She could feel the life inside, glowing like a banked fire in a hearth.

"Maybe," Maeve said, "Padraic should be the Holder." She wouldn’t look at Jenna. "Maybe that’s what should have happened."

"Is that what Da would have wanted?" Jenna retorted. "Or have you already forgotten him and the fact that Lamh Shabhala was once his?"

Maeve turned, her cloca flaring outward with the sharp motion. "I will "ever forget Niall. Never. And

I can’t believe that you’d be cruel enough to even suggest that."

Guilt made Jenna momentarily forget the throbbing coldness in her arm. "Mam, I’m sorry…"

There was a tentative knock at the door and one of the servants stuck her head in. "Pardon, m’ladies, but Coelin Singer is here asking to see the Holder."

Maeve was still glaring at Jenna. "Tell him he may

come in," Jenna said. "In here, Holder?" the servant asked.

"Do you not have ears?" Jenna snapped. "Aye, here. If the Tanaise Rig doesn’t like it, then he should have left his own people to stand guard."

The servant looked at Maeve, who shrugged. "The Holder obviously doesn’t care to have anyone else suggest what she should do or question her commands."

The servant fled.

"Mam-" Jenna began, but then the door opened again and Coelin entered. His face was full of concern and question, but he seemed startled when he saw Maeve.

"Oh, Widow Aoire," he said, nodding to Maeve and glancing once at Jenna questioningly. "I don’t mean to disturb…" He gestured at the door. "I can wait in the outer room."

"Stay. Maybe you can talk some sense into the girl," Maeve said to Coelin. "I obviously can’t tell my daughter anything. She would rather learn from her own mistakes, I suppose. Just see that you’re not another one, Coelin Singer." Maeve didn’t turn back to look at Jenna, but walked out of the room. The sound of the door closing was loud in the apartment.

"What was that about?" Coelin asked. "Jenna? I saw the lights, and thought that you might-"

Jenna shook her head. "Don’t talk," she said. "Just. . come here. Please. Hold me."

Coelin, with a glance back at the door, went to the bed in two long strides. He took Jenna up in his arms.

"Kiss me," she said. "Make me forget about all this for a little bit. ."

And, for a time, she did.

Chapter 26: A World Changed

DEER Creek ran at the bottom of a steep ravine. Above, to the north, was the city of Lar Bhaile; south rose the steep and stony flanks of Goat Fell with the Ri's Keep perched on top. Not far beyond the bridge that linked Low Town to Goat Fell and the ramparts of the keep, the creek widened and fanned out into a marsh-clogged mouth before flowing into Lough Lar. To Jenna's mind, Deer Creek was more river than creek, nearly twice as wide as the Mill Creek that ran past Ballintubber, deeper and faster.

And Deer Creek had seals; one, at least: on a flat slab thrusting out of the rushing water, a dark, shiny-furred head watched as Jenna made her way down the path from the Ri's Market Square. Getting away from the keep had been easier than Jenna had expected. After the incident with the gardai, no one voiced an objection when she left the keep unescorted except by two chambermaids. Jenna noticed that another carriage de-parted the keep immediately after they left, and that the square seemed particularly well-populated with gardai. Jenna had opened the cloch slightly, letting its energy spread out over the square-there were at least a half dozen tendrils of attention leading to her, none of them overtly dangerous but all watching.

And down in the hawthorn-choked ravine, another: O'Deoradhain.