by James Comins
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lord of Stone
or, When It Opens, Ron
What a stupid thing to do. Oooooh. She should never have trusted Bres, not for one second. Now both she and Binnan Darnan were in super trouble.
“Binnan Darnan?” Her voice echoed. Nothing answered.
Lenna banged on the rock walls with her fists until her knuckles hurt. She punched and punched and kicked, listening to the clopping sound as her fists knocked into solid rock. Finally she stopped and rubbed her fists. Pressing her back to the wall, she slid down to her butt and hugged her knees.
The rock whispered to her in the darkness.
“Lenna,” the rock said.
“Mr. the Dagda?” she hissed.
“Yep. Listen. In a moment I’ll open a wall--”
“How?”
“Not now, blast it. I’ve a plan. How quiet can ye be?”
Lenna said nothing. Then she leaned into the rock and whispered, “That quiet.”
“Lovely. I’ll open the wall to yar left. Grab the othar lass and woll getcha both out of thar. Got it?”
“Got it. How did you know--”
“Later. Wairk yar way left and tap a fingernail on the wall between the two rooms.”
The room was full of clunky heavy trip-you things, but there was no way to see them. She walked her fingers along the floor, scooting around clangy metal plates and cups. Probably more of Bres’ stupid gold. The floor was chilly. She tapped the side wall as quietly as she could. It flowed away from her hand like water.
Pol’s voice swam through the rock: “Find the gairl.”
Lenna nodded to the rock in the dark, which was stupid, but nevermind. The second room was the same as the first. Clunky metal things here and there. She scooted around with her hands on the floor and bumped into something floofy.
“Binnan Darnan!” hissed Lenna. She found a hand, which was ice cold and clammy. “You better not be dead, stoop.” She dug one hand under Binnan Darnan’s back and one under her knees and picked her up over her shoulder like a sack of feed. There was wispy hair and lace everywhere.
“Mr. the Dagda. I’ve got her.”
“When it opens, Ron.”
“Who’s--”
The wall exploded outward and light streamed in. Oh. Lenna considered bonking Binnan Darnan’s head on something as she hopped over gold stuff and exploded rubble, but decided not to.
“Intlás! Lés! Stop them!”
“Whatever you say, Master.” Indaell grabbed Pol and Emily by the shoulder. Ljos put a hand against Kaldi and Talvi.
“Not--” Bres put his tall, beautiful forehead miserably on one hand. “Not like that.”
Indaell giggled.
“Taillvin son of Bres,” intoned Ljos. “You have the power to end this game.”
“I know,” Talvi said sadly.
“How?” asked Emily.
Lenna saw Talvi dip a hand into the tan pocket of his orange jacket and withdraw it again.
“Wake Binnan Darnan,” Talvi told his father.
Bres was furious, like a cornered badger. “What will you give me?”
Talvi had his hand on his pocket, nervously, uncertainly. “I’ll give you Ireland.”
“It’s already mine.”
“Ireland above,” said Talvi.
“You don’t have that power. No one can stop the curse of my father. Or--or have you found a way?”
“Yes. I’ve found a way. Free Binnan Darnan and I’ll free you from the curse.”
“You have a way? A way for me to look upon the hills and fields once more?”
“Yes,” said Talvi. He gripped Aitta’s hand tightly, keeping the other hand on his pocket. He looked to the gray figure of Ljos, who nodded.
Stunned, Bres sat back against the shaking branches of his glowering throne. His blue eyes shone in the gold light, dazzled and needy. “Very well. Very well. Yes. Lés. Wake the child.”
Binnan Darnan shivered in Lenna’s arms. She set her down gently. Black-gloved hands stretched and Binnan Darnan yawned.
“You did so get in super trouble,” whispered Lenna. Binnan Darnan blinked and stuck out her tongue.
“Ljos? Indaell?” said Talvi. “Remove the curse on Brugda and Lenna.”
Ljos faced his brother. “Do it,” he hissed.
Indaell’s head and hands stretched across the room like snakes. He stuck a finger up Lenna’s nose. “There it is!” he squealed. He pulled out a shiny black strand, which burst into soap bubbles and went away.
“Eew. So gross. Hey! I can’t see lies. I’m an idiot ...”
“Uh huh,” said Binnan Darnan.
“Shut up. It's gone!” The room was bright, blindingly, gloriously bright, and the evil shadow of lies was nowhere.
Talvi nodded. “Father. It’s time.”
“Yes. Yes! Release me.” The beautiful man rose again, his blue cape flowing, his hair falling across it in a waterfall of blonde, blonder than Lenna’s straw-colored hair, a spill of gold.
Talvi stepped forward and embraced his father, who awkwardly patted him. Then he stepped back. He pulled a scrap of something from his pocket and turned it in his hand, holding it up to the gold-tinted light.
“So beautiful,” said Bres. He caught fire and burned away to a pillar of ash. A gust of wind ran through the caves. Lenna smelled flowers and cut grass as Bres blew away along the wind. The blue cape settled like a lake before the throne.
“What was it?” asked Emily.
“A postcard.”
