Child of the Prophecy

by Juliet Marillier

  “I’d never argue with your father on a point of strategy, and I won’t with you. The men rely on you to make the right decisions, and so will I.”

  The voice made its way into my consciousness as I came slowly awake. I kept my eyes shut. I was in bed, tucked up warmly, and there was the little crackle of a hearth fire. A lovely smell; some drink with ginger and cloves. I was tired; I was so weary, and the bed felt soft and good. My body ached all over. I thought maybe I would just go right back to sleep…

  “Besides,” it was Johnny’s voice this time, “in your heart, you want her to come. I see through that stern demeanor. You must agree Fainne’s a lovely girl, sorcerer’s daughter or no. Can’t you just see her, shining like a little bright lamp in our grim house of men?”

  “Her mother certainly drew them like moths to a flame,” Liadan said wryly. “And indeed sometimes I think this is Niamh all over again, so stubborn, so prickly, and yet a fine girl and easy to love. You read me well, son. I cherish my four boys; but I have longed for a daughter. Maybe it’s true. Maybe what Fainne needs is protection. But there’s a terrible risk as well, I know that better than anyone, save Ciarán himself.”

  “Trust me, Mother. This is right.”

  “I suppose there’s no point in speaking to you of danger, just as there never was with Bran. The concept of self-protection is unknown to the two of you. I hoped he’d become a little more cautious, as a man of near forty with grown sons. But still he must be in the forefront of it all, risking himself as if he’d as many lives as a cat.”

  “Hasn’t he?” Johnny chuckled.

  “He need not do this himself. There are others, younger men, who would jump at the chance. It sounds—it sounds perilous, Johnny. I fear to lose you both.”

  “You know the Chief. He calculates his risks. This has been planned to the last detail, and for all his advanced years, he’s one of our strongest swimmers, and knows the terrain and the layout of their mooring better than anyone. We’ll hand-pick the other men. It’s true, there’s danger, but there’s always danger in winds and tides. And look what’s riding on it. You don’t sink your enemy’s fleet by stealth without exposing yourself to peril.”

  “There will be so few of you, and such a long way from help. If word of this got out, you’d be vulnerable as chicks in the nest.”

  “You imagine we haven’t made allowance for that? As for intelligence, who’d believe even the Painted Man crazy enough to attempt such a sortie? Nobody sails around the Needle on the eastern side. As for such a swim, it’s never been attempted before, the currents being what they are. Such rumors would be instantly discounted as fantasy.”

  “Your words do little to reassure me,” Liadan said. “I am reminded that it was my choice to have you brought up in your father’s mold; a warrior and strategist, with no concept of fear. Things might have unfolded very differently had you been raised as a scholar and mystic in the nemetons.”

  “Do you regret your choice, Mother?”

  “Until that moment, when Conor told us the lady Oonagh still lives and threatens us, I did not. I have had years of such happiness; I do not know how Bran and I could have lived our lives without one another. I rejoice in my boys, and in the fine community of Harrowfield and the fellowship of Inis Eala. I am proud that we were able to give heirs not just to my father’s estate but to Sevenwaters as well. There are regrets; Niamh’s sorrow and suffering remain in my heart, as does Ciarán’s estrangement from his family and his calling. For that reason, I longed to welcome their daughter as my own. But now…once, long ago, I was told, You want more than you can rightly have. I was told there was blood and sorrow in my choice. Perhaps it is time for me to pay the price for those years of joy. Ask me again, after the summer, if I have regrets.”

  “You miss him,” Johnny said softly.

  “More than I can put into words. My home is here; but my heart is there, wherever he is.”

  “We’ll leave as soon as Fainne can travel,” said Johnny.

  Then I heard a knock, and the creak of the door, and Clodagh’s voice. There was a conversation about whether I had had fainting fits before, and how I had been sick at Uncle Eamonn’s house for a whole day, and missed seeing the white pony. Eventually it seemed safe enough to open my eyes and let them see I was awake again.

  I’d been unconscious for a whole day and night, they told me, from the time Sibeal had found me lying on my bedroom floor early in the morning, until the next day. Longer maybe, for I was freezing cold when my cousin discovered me and raised the alarm, though I had had a blanket over me and a pillow beneath my head, which was strange. I had slept right through the midwinter ritual, which Conor had performed on his own. I had missed the burning of the great log, Eilis informed me, and the cider and cakes. Indeed, I was still so weak I could scarcely stir from my bed. I had plenty of small visitors and was told many stories. Johnny came, and broke the news to me that I was to ride north with him and his mother, and meet the other part of my family. Sibeal slipped in alone, bringing Riona. My protest was overruled.

  “I’ve explained it to Maeve,” the child told me, solemn as an old woman, “and she agrees. We’ll make Maeve her own doll, all of us. Mother’s going to show us how. But you need Riona back now. You need to take her with you when you go.”

  The weariness went on. I was astonished at the way the effort of transformation had drained me, even though I had been forewarned. The body trembled and retreated from any challenge; the mind still held the terror of the helpless insect, tucked away somewhere within the human consciousness. Next time, I thought, I would choose something bigger and stronger and better able to look after itself. Three whole days passed before I had recovered sufficiently to move on with my plan.

  I sat before my fire, that third night. I had put away anything that might be dangerous. Riona was deep in the wooden chest, along with Darragh’s shawl and the tiny ring of woven grasses. If I had had the strength, I might perhaps have thrown these precious things away; destroyed them, lest they catch my grandmother’s eye and give her ideas. But, sorcerer’s daughter or no, I was not as strong as that.

  When all was safely stowed and the door bolted, I put my hand around the bronze amulet and focused on the flames. A mind-twister has a dual purpose. It links the wearer with the bestower; it binds one to the other’s will. It is also a type of conduit, an eye which opens between the two when it chooses. It was thus, I believed, that my grandmother had been able to see me from time to time, to know what I was doing, although she was far away. She had said she could not see me all the time, only now and then in snatches. Such charms possess their own quirks, their own tricks. The link had always seemed stronger when I touched the amulet or held it. If I did that now and spoke an invocation of summoning, I thought she would come. I breathed deep, and opened the eye of the spirit. I spoke the ancient words, and I called to her.

  She was there in an instant; not present in the flesh, as at our last memorable encounter, but there in the heart of the fire, a pair of beady dark eyes and a powerful, demanding voice.

  “Ah! This I did not expect, that you would bring me to you thus. I’m thirsty for your news, child. Tell me!”

  “I’ve done very well, Grandmother.” I could not quite keep the tremble from my voice.

  “I’m all ears. Go on.”

  “My plan is in place, as I told you it would be. The man Eamonn has offered for me, formally, in return for information I can give him. He wishes to destroy another who is part of the alliance. I performed a transformation to obtain what he wanted. If he acts on this it will surely spell the failure of the campaign. They cannot win without this man they call the Chief.”

  “You performed a full transformation? Successfully?”

  “Yes, Grandmother.”

  “Without any help?”

  “Yes, Grandmother.” I looked straight into the fire, and kept my expression guileless.

  “I see. And what was this information?”

  S
omehow I had known she would put me to the test. It would not have been enough simply to fabricate a story. Yet I was reluctant to tell her; in her hands such information could be dangerous indeed. “It—it would mean little to you, Grandmother; it is simply something which may give Eamonn the opportunity to do what he wishes. Once I have told him, he can work out how.”

  Grandmother’s eyes narrowed alarmingly. “Fainne,” she said very softly, “you’re worrying me, child. I thought you understood what the result would be if you attempted to disobey me. It seems you did not. Must I show you again?” The fire seemed to glow brighter around her features, a fierce flame of gold and red, save for the dark coals of her eyes. Surely she had not guessed the truth already? Surely she could not know I planned to defy her?

  “I—I did not mean—” I stammered.

  “Tell me, Fainne! What is this highly significant piece of strategy you have discovered? Not trying to play games with me, are you? Games make me think of children. Children love games, don’t they? Climbing, balancing, swinging high. Risky business, especially for the smaller ones. Still, your uncle has many daughters; too many, really.”

  I was shaking. It enraged me that she still had the power to manipulate me thus; her casual dismissal of the girls terrified me. There seemed no choice but to tell her. The amulet felt hot against my breast, as if it held something of her own anger.

  “It’s to do with swimming,” I said, trying for as little detail as I could. “A small group of them. And it’s hazardous.”

  “More,” Grandmother commanded.

  “They’ll swim across from one island to another to sink the enemy’s ships. During this venture the man Eamonn despises will be at great risk. I plan to tell Eamonn of this; let him seize what opportunity he can from it.”

  “Mmm. It’s not much. What if this doesn’t work?”

  “It will work, Grandmother. And there’s more. I am to travel north with my aunt Liadan to Inis Eala. There, I will be close to the heart of the campaign; near to its secrets. I will be ideally placed to carry out your work.”

  “I see.”

  “Aren’t you pleased with what I have done, Grandmother?”

  “There are bad influences in that place. It’s old, and full of presences. Your father would feel quite at home there, no doubt. Just make sure it’s not the same for you. Remember, the only sound advice is mine. And don’t be tempted to remove the amulet. You need it, for this is your most dangerous time. Take it off and that may well be the end for you.”

  “I understand, Grandmother,” I said in suitably meek tones. Indeed, I understood all too well, for it had happened before, the day Darragh came to Glencarnagh. Take it off, and she would know immediately, and harry me to do her will with every weapon she possessed. She needed me. She could not do this without me, that was clearer all the time. Although I might long to remove this dark talisman, I must wear it to the end; until the moment of final conflict. I must carry her charm until the instant she learned I was not her tool, but her adversary. What would happen then I could not say, but I knew deep inside me that this must play itself out to the end, as the Old Ones had said; as she herself had said. A momentous unfolding of events…

  “What about this fellow Eamonn?” Grandmother asked suddenly. “How do you feed him the information he wants if he’s in one place and you’re in another?”

  It had not taken her long to discover this weakness in my strategy. I tried not to let my misgivings show. “I’ll find a way,” I told her with what I hoped was an air of confidence. “He must be part of the final campaign; there must come a time when all are assembled together. Inis Eala is the key to this, Grandmother. That’s where I must be.”

  “You seem different, child. Something has changed. Don’t forget. Don’t forget what I showed you.”

  I shuddered at the menacing sweetness of her voice. “I have not forgotten, Grandmother. And I have changed. Now that I know—now that I have felt the satisfaction it gives to make a man beg for my touch, now that I have experienced the power of transforming, I am beginning to understand. I am starting to know why you act as you do; I am realizing that to be a sorceress has its own rewards.”

  “That’s as may be,” she sniffed, but I could hear in her tone that she was pleased. So far, then, she had believed me. It was just as well she was not fully present, or she might smell my cold fear. It was a perilous game I played with her.

  “What if it doesn’t work?” she demanded. “Do you know what you must do then?”

  “It will work. If not, I will find another way.”

  “You needn’t find one, Fainne. I’ll tell you. It should be obvious. Now answer me one thing. Is he there, the son, the one they call the child of the prophecy? Have you seen him?”

  “Yes, Grandmother,” I said cautiously, not liking the tone of her voice.

  “Remember,” she said, “at the end, the only thing that matters is him. He’s the only piece of real value in this game. The rest of them, the druid, the warrior, the chieftain, the lady, they’ll stand by him and give their all for him, and die for him if need be, to achieve the long goal. He’s in the prophecy, and they all rely on that. Their confidence comes from that, from him. At the end, all you need to do is remove the child of the prophecy, and the whole thing collapses. Wait until the last moment, and see he fails. If you haven’t the stomach to kill again, there are other ways. You know those already. It’s easy enough to find someone else to do the dirty work for you. What’s the fellow like? Not letting yourself grow fond of him, I hope?”

  “No, Grandmother. I am not so foolish.”

  “Hmm. I’m not sure if that’s the truth. You were softhearted with those children. I expect this is a charming young man; and you are your mother’s daughter, after all.”

  I saw my mother stepping from the rock again; felt the air passing, the touch of the salt spray. Stepping off to oblivion. That always seemed to me impossible. I shivered.

  “Believe me,” I said with hard-won steadiness, “I would not dare to lie to you.”

  “Very wise, Fainne. Still, I think I’d like a little demonstration of loyalty. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll put this young warrior to the test, and you as well. We’ll see just how strong he is; just how much pain he can endure. It’ll be helpful to know that for later. This trip north is an ideal opportunity. No need for you to work a spell, granddaughter; save your power for the end, you must be at your best then. I will do what is necessary. I won’t kill the fellow, that’s your job and comes much later. I’ll just play with him a little.”

  I felt a prickling down my spine; it was difficult to look into her fire-circled eyes and keep my features calm. “I don’t understand,” I said. “What purpose can there be in this?”

  “I told you, Fainne. It’s a test. An easy one for you, since there’s no need for you to do anything at all. Indeed, that is your part in it: precisely nothing. You’ll simply watch him and take no action. It isn’t much to ask.”

  I stood silent as the meaning of her words became clear to me. “I understand,” I whispered. “What kind of charm do you plan to use on him?”

  Grandmother cackled with amusement. “You need to ask me that? You with your disfigurement of children? Come now, where’s your imagination? What would you use?”

  This was indeed a test. I held my expression impassive while my stomach churned with disgust. “You’d need to be subtle,” I told her. “My aunt Liadan sees a great deal. If you plan to reverse the charm later it should be something invisible.”

  “Night terrors, maybe,” said Grandmother encouragingly. “I could drive the fellow mad with visitations of death and disaster.”

  I recalled the steadiness in Johnny’s gray eyes. “I don’t think that would work very well,” I told her.

  “Well, then?” She grew rapidly impatient. “What’s it to be?”

  I knew the answer, though I did not want to tell her. At least what was in my mind would be easily reversible. And to keep her tr
ust, I must continue to play this game. “A pain in the belly,” I said, “that could be natural, something that starts as a minor disturbance and grows worse. What do you want from Johnny? Grovelling subservience? An acknowledgment of his own frailty? What are you hoping to prove?”

  Her lips curved, showing the lines of neatly pointed teeth. “How long he can endure,” she said. “More important, how long you can watch without helping him. If you are both strong, the final conclusion of our venture will be so much more satisfying, Fainne. So much. Indeed, I can hardly wait to watch that. Very well, a bellyache it shall be; you’ll know all about that, since I’ve demonstrated it to you myself in the past. Rows of little teeth gnawing their way through living flesh, a pain that makes the nerves jangle and the sinews tremble, an agony that makes a man dream of death as a blissful release. And just remember, there’s no expectation of you at all, my dear; only that you watch and not act. Only that.”

  I nodded, trying not to shiver.

  “You won’t see me,” Grandmother said. “But I will see you, Fainne. Make sure you act as I have instructed.”

  “Yes, Grandmother,” I said.

  “Don’t worry,” she went on, “I’ll let the fellow recover in time. I want him well enough to take his place in the final battle, after all. I want these folk to savor the taste of success until the very last moment. Then we’ll snatch their victory away, only then. Human folk and Fair Folk will go down together, before our very eyes. What a sight that will be! I’ll probably add a few little touches of my own, I think. I won’t be able to resist.”