Rising From the Ashes: The Chronicles of Caymin (33 page)

“Please ask them to take extra care,”
she begged.
“I do not want him to use them to get to me.”

She half-listened as, for what felt like the hundredth time, the others went back over the various ways Diarmit had fooled them all.

They had moved beds and clothing to the meetinghouse, stocked up on food, alerted the animals to be on the lookout for the traitor.

“He’s clever, though,” Enat had reminded the apprentices. “Clever enough to fool us all this time.”

Without Ivar and Neela, Caymin knew Enat felt the full responsibility to keep Diarmit from doing any more harm.

“I hope he does come back,” Niall growled. “I’d like to teach the weasel a lesson.”

“He will not fight you openly,” Caymin said. “He was ready to poison Daina and Cíana.”

“I don’t think he’ll chance an open confrontation,” Enat said. “Not now that we know what his true motive is. But if you encounter him, don’t let him tempt you into using dark magic. Use defensive spells to keep yourself and others safe, and send word to the rest of us as soon as you can. Whatever you do, don’t allow him to draw you into the forest alone. Caymin is right, he won’t fight you fairly.”

Days passed and there was no sign of Diarmit, but another worry nagged at Caymin. She pulled Enat aside.

“I accused Gai of things he did not do. I accused him of being the one to hurt Péist.”

“You were angry and hurt over learning that it was his father’s warriors who sacked your village,” Enat said. “You were looking for other reasons to be angry with him. It was a normal reaction.”

“But I was wrong,” Caymin fretted.

“Someday you can tell him you were wrong.”

Caymin doubted she would ever have that opportunity, but she voiced something else that had been worrying her. “You and the others are in danger while Péist and I are here.”

Enat laid a hand on her shoulder. “Listen to what I say, Caymin. We’ll help take care of you and Péist. You’re safer here than you would be anywhere else. I’ll have your word that you won’t do anything foolish, like leaving the forest.”

Caymin looked up at her.

“Your word,” Enat said.

Caymin nodded.

“Come then, let’s make some porridge for everyone. Nothing seems as dire with a full belly.”

CHAPTER 22

Enemies Everywhere

A
fter a fortnight of being corralled together, the apprentices were snapping at one other.

“I told you to stay off my bedding,” said Niall, yanking his blankets and causing Daina to tumble under the table.

“I didn’t mean to step on your bloody bedding,” scowled Daina. “But there’s no room to turn around in here.”

“Enough, all of you,” said Enat, her own temper growing short. “I need to check the forest protections. I’ll be gone the entire day. I’ll raise the enchantments around the village, and you may all go where you wish, but you must go with at least one other person. And I want you to have weapons with you at all times.”

“Weapons?” Caymin asked. “You would have us use weapons on Diarmit?”

Enat did not look at her as she replied, “I would have you do what you must to protect yourselves and the forest.”

The apprentices went together to gather weapons from the storehouse. Caymin chose her favored bow, while Una and Niall chose staffs and Cíana and Daina chose spears.

“I wish to visit the badgers,” Caymin said. “Will one of you go with me?”

“I’ll go,” said Niall. “I fancy some fresh air and a long walk.”

Caymin had to jog to keep up with him. Spring sunshine showered them with golden light. They kept a sharp ear for any unusual sounds as they moved through the forest, which was full of sound as new life burst forth all about them. Trees flowered and budded, and birds flew frantically, searching for materials for their nests. Caymin heard the whispers of new cubs lying in dens and burrows – foxes and voles and stoats – while squirrels chattered overhead in the trees.

“Enat is worried,” Niall said as they walked.

“She is.” Caymin wondered how much the others had seen. “This is a bad time for Neela and Ivar to be gone.”

“And Diarmit knows it,” Niall said darkly. “To think I shared a cottage with him for over a year.”

That was what troubled Caymin as well. Diarmit knew them – their routines, their strengths and weaknesses. He could use that when and if he chose to attack again.

Niall glanced down at her. “I feel bad that we accused Gai when Fergus was attacked.”

“I accused him of far worse than you,” Caymin said.

He dropped a hand onto her shoulder. “Don’t let it trouble you, little badger. I –”

But whatever he had been about to say went unsaid as Timmin stepped out from behind a tree, his staff leveled. Without a word, he blasted Niall off his feet, sending him crashing against a tree where he fell motionless to the ground.

“Don’t,” Timmin said to Caymin, turning his staff on her as she unslung her bow from her shoulder. “Drop it.”

She let the bow fall to her feet. They stood looking at each other. Timmin was nearly unrecognizable; his hair was long and tangled, his clothing stained and torn. His face was thinner than Caymin remembered, but his eyes burned like coals, sunken in their sockets.

He approached her warily, keeping his staff aimed at her.

“Where is he?”

“Where is –”

“Don’t toy with me!” Timmin looked quite mad, his eyes ringed with white and spittle flying from his mouth. “I must have the dragon!”

His eyes narrowed and his voice became dangerously quiet. “I will have him.”

Caymin stood still, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She flinched as Timmin raised his staff and drew a circle in the air. He rested his staff on the ground.

“Where is he?”

Caymin felt his push into her mind. Closing her eyes, she pushed back with a protective shield.

“You think to stop me? I, who have worked magic you can’t even dream of?” Timmin laughed, a crazed laugh that raised goosebumps on Caymin’s arms as she listened.

“I will hurt you if I must,” he said.

“Enat! Beanna!”

Timmin shook his head. “You’ll not call for help this time.”

Caymin felt her words echo back at her from the barrier Timmin had cast. Again, he aimed his staff at her chest.

“I’ll only ask one more time.”

Caymin pressed her lips together as she braced herself. She saw Timmin’s mouth move, but heard nothing beyond her own screams as unbearable pain tore through her. He stopped only when she fell to her knees.

“Call him to you, or tell me where he is.”

Caymin peered at him through watery eyes as she gasped for breath. “He will not bond with you.”

Timmin pointed his staff at her again, and again, Caymin felt as if she were being torn apart, the pain was so intense. She tried not to scream, but the cries were ripped from her throat as she writhed on the ground.

She lay face down, sobbing as the pain continued to throb. Even the distant memory of the agony of her burns seemed mild compared to this.

She panted against the earth, her body trembling as she tried to brace herself for his next assault, when she heard a horrible snarl rip through the forest. She blinked away her tears to see a whirlwind of fur and teeth. It took her a moment to realize that badgers were attacking Timmin from all sides. It seemed the entire clan was snapping and biting at him. He spun, aiming spells at them, trying to fend them off, but they kept attacking from every side.

The air rang with a bugling cry, and an enormous shadow flew over Caymin as she lay there. The ground shook as huge hooves landed between her and Timmin. The great antlers slashed as Ríordán charged, stomping and kicking, while the badgers savaged Timmin from below.

More shadows passed overhead, and a flock of birds – crows, hawks, owls, thrushes – led by Beanna, struck from the air.

With loud curses, Timmin turned and ran with his arms covering his head, leaving a trail of blood littering the ground. Caymin tried frantically to focus, tried to call out, but all went black.

Enat walked as silently as possible as she made her rounds of the forest. It was too vast to check the entire boundary, but she’d felt a breach, two nights before. Since then, she’d listened – as best she could through the squabbling of the apprentices as they stayed cooped up together. There had been nothing more, but she knew better than to ignore what she’d felt. Someone was here, and she was fairly certain it was Timmin.

He knew what this time of year meant. Ivar and Neela had already put their departure off nearly a full moon after the rift between Caymin and Gai. They had discussed not reaping at all this year, but with the three eldest gone, and Niall and Una due to take their trials this coming Samhain, they needed new apprentices.

They were still out there, young ones with power, but it wasn’t like the old days, when the air almost buzzed with it. Enat remembered when mothers and fathers had welcomed the news that one of their young was blessed with magic. Oftentimes, they had seen glimpses of it, and they were eager to have a mage in the family, one who would come back to their village or clan and do them honor.

These days, the reaping had to be approached much more cautiously. All of the elders had experienced the result of the fear the monks had spread, and all had, at one time or another, barely escaped with their lives. Forgotten in those villages were the gods and goddesses, the old festivals and their seasons. Oh, there were remnants, and Enat could see that there always would be – May Day dances, harvest festivals.

What they couldn’t entirely stamp out by fear mongering, the monks had turned into something Christian, like their recent claims that the Christ had been born in the winter, so the people could have a Christian reason for their continued celebration of the Yule.

She’d even seen statues to the mother of the Christ. Those monks were canny, giving the people a woman to take the place of the goddess, though they’d had to make her a virgin to do it.

She snorted and shook her head as she walked. She’d considered trying to send messages to Ivar and Neela, calling them back after Diarmit revealed his true intentions, but it was impossible to know where they were now.

She walked along, so intent in her thoughts as she checked the magical protections of the forest, that when she heard the sound of a twig snapping behind her, she knew it was too late.

“Drop the staff on the ground and step away from it.”

She let the staff fall and stepped aside. “Diarmit.” She turned around to see him holding a sword with both hands. “You don’t want to do this.”

He leaned forward and grabbed the staff, breathing hard at his own daring as he let the sword fall and pointed the staff at her. “You don’t know what I want.”

She tilted her head and smiled. “You look hungry. Come back with me and –”

“Don’t talk to me as if I’m an imbecile!” He poked himself in the chest with his thumb. “I was smart enough to fool all of you. You thought I was slow, but I know more than the others put together. I know things they’ll never know.”

“Like how to torture harmless creatures?”

Diarmit flushed.

Enat clasped her hands and faced him. “I know you didn’t learn those things from us. Who taught you?”

“His name is Angus. He’s the priest in our village.”

“A priest?” Enat’s eyes widened but then she smiled. “Ah, he has power himself.”

Diarmit stood a little taller. “He does and he recognized the power in me. He taught me himself. Showed me how we can use both.”

Enat took a step closer. “But to what end, Diarmit? To control people? To hurt them? Is that really how you want to use your power? You obviously have a great deal of natural ability. Let us teach you how to use it for good.”

“For good?” Diarmit sneered. “Power doesn’t know good or evil. It just is. And the one who has it, controls others.”

“Is that what Angus told you?” She shook her head. “He’s wrong. When you use force – magical or otherwise – to dominate others, it ends up controlling you.”

He laughed. “How can it control you?”

“Because you live in constant fear of losing it.”

He jabbed the staff in her direction. “Stay back. Stay back or I’ll use this.”