Holder of Lightning

His blind eyes seemed to stare at her. Callused fingers brushed her cheek. On his shoulder, she could see Denmark, the bird’s black eyes giving back twin, tiny reflections of her face. "Jenna, what’s hurting you most right now is the lack of the anduilleaf and not the sky-magic. should never have given the herb to you in the first place. Some people

I can t stop once they take it, and eventually the craving becomes so intense that it drives you mad. You will have to get through this without it."

"I can’t," she wept. She huddled in a fetal position, cradling her right arm against herself, but nothing would warm its cold flesh. Nothing would ever make it normal again. The chill seemed to have crept all the way to her shoulder, and she shivered. She couldn’t see Seancoim any-more; her vision was

narrowing again, as it had in the keep, all her periph-eral vision gone until there was nothing there but what was directly in front of her. The headache raged in her skull, and she was afraid that if she moved, her head would burst. "Seancoim. ." she wailed.

"I'm here," his voice answered, and she heard his staff clattering against stone as he moved. "I'll stay with you. Here, drink this."

He pressed a bowl to her lips. She sipped the warm liquid, hoping irrationally that despite his words it was anduilleaf. It was not: sweet mint tea, with a hint of something else. She swallowed, more eagerly than she expected, for the taste made her realize how hungry and thirsty she was. He gently laid her head back again. "Seancoim, just this once. The mage-lights… it hurts…"

"I know it does," he told her. "But you can bear it."

"I can't" she answered, but the words were hard to speak. She was sleepy; she could feel the weariness spreading through her, radiating out from her belly. "Where's O'Deoradhain?" she asked.

"He'll tell you what's happened…"

"He's here. Just outside." Seancoim's face was receding, as if she were falling away from him. "And he's told me everything."

"It hurts," Jenna said again.

"I know," he answered, but his face was so tiny and his voice so soft and it was easier to close her eyes and give in to the urge to sleep.

"Seancoim?"

A hand brushed lank hair away from her face.

"No, it's Ennis," O'Deoradhain's voice answered. "Seancoim's gone for a bit. Should I go look for him?"

Her head felt huge and heavy, and the headache still pounded. Her right arm was a log of ice cradled against her stomach. She tried to lift it and couldn't. She couldn't feel her fingers at all. Her body was trembling and despite the chill air, she could feel sweat breaking out on her fore-head. A soft cloth brushed it away. Jenna licked dry, cracked lips. "Thank you," she husked.

"Feeling better?"

Her left hand felt for the cloch around her neck. When she felt the she clasped it with a sigh. "Worse,

I think. I'm not sure." "Here then. He left this; said to have you drink it when you woke up." The bowl touched her lips again and she drank the sweet brew. Afterward, she lay back. O'Deoradhain looked down at her worriedly. There was a across his forehead: a line of dried blood with black thread sewn through it to hold the gaping edges shut, and both his eyes were swollen nearly closed and blackened.

"What happened to you?" Jenna asked. "Did the Ri's gardai. .?" O'Deoradhain shook his head. He touched the wound, his mouth twisting ruefully.

"No. After you took in the mage-lights, you collapsed, and this crow came flying past me and an ancient Bunus Muintir appeared right behind me. I thought he was about to attack or cast a spell. I drew my dagger, and all of a sudden the old bastard cracked me on the head with his damned staff, a lot faster and harder than an old blind man had any right to move. ."

Despite the pain, Jenna found herself chuckling at the image of Seancoim rapping O'Deoradhain over the head with his staff. O'Deoradhain frowned at first, then finally smiled back at her. "I'm glad you find that funny. I assure you I didn't at the time."

"If you wouldn't go pointing your weapon at people, it wouldn't have happened at all,"