The Unicorn Hunter (6 page)

‘She is right, Maddy,' said Seamus. ‘She is Liadan's captain. No one has the right to tell her no.'

‘I don't care!' said Maddy. ‘The last time she got me alone in the grounds of the castle she tried to stick a blade in my throat.'

‘We are under a banner of truce. She cannot harm you Maddy,' said Seamus.

‘She'll find a way!'

‘Maddy, be reasonable,' warned Seamus.

‘Reasonable? That would be like, being mature, right?' asked Maddy.

‘Exactly!' said Seamus.

‘Well, maturity comes with age, and if you send her into the castle with me I won't ever mature more than a couple of hours,' said Maddy, folding her arms and jutting her jaw. ‘If you want me to go along with all this, then: Pick. Someone. Else.'

Seamus sighed and turned away. Fachtna snarled and strode over to Maddy, her huge wings standing stiff from her back, quivering with her rage. Granda, Danny and Roisin stepped closer to Maddy so she was partially shielded from the war faerie. ‘I will not forget this insult, Feral Child,' she said. ‘You will pay for this, in blood and pain.'

Maddy's knees shook as she glared back but her voice was strong and low. ‘Just add it to the list of things I have done to make you angry, Fachtna,' she said. ‘But I won this round.'

Fachtna's tattooed skin rippled as she tensed every muscle in her body. Her fingers flexed on her sword hilt and Maddy tried not to swallow as she wondered if Fachtna was angry enough to violate the truce and draw her sword anyway. After a long moment, Fachtna whirled away to stalk back to the Winter Court.

So that was how Maddy ended up climbing the steps in the tower of Blarney Castle with Tuatha before and behind her. Light glimmered around their bodies and lit the narrow stairway. Maddy hated these stairs. They were narrow and steep, their edges worn to slippery pouty lips from centuries of feet running up and down them. There was a rusty iron rail bolted into the wall and she clung to it with white-knuckled fingers. The tall Tuatha were bent almost double as they squeezed up the narrow stairwell, the shadows on the wall scuttling on ahead of the living bodies. Maddy paused, puffing, and snatched a look over her shoulder. She could see the white face of Connor, Liadan's gancanagh, behind her. He had been picked in Fachtna's place, and while Maddy wasn't wild about any of the Winter Court, she felt safe enough from Connor as long as he didn't try to touch her.

Granda and Dr Malloy had been the only Sighted allowed to come with Maddy. Granda had sent Roisin
and Danny home. They had both protested loudly at the sight of Maddy's white and fearful face, but Granda had insisted. ‘There is nothing you can do here. Go away home and spin your granny a tall tale until we come back.'

Maddy's breath misted faintly in front of her face. The inside of the castle was always a few degrees colder than the outside world and its walls wept night and day as if in despair at the ruin it had become. The stone smelled like the damp earth of a freshly dug grave even though only faint smears of grime could be seen on the steps. Weeping water gathered in every pit and dip, making it treacherous underfoot. Maddy's rubber-soled trainers plashed and squeaked from time to time as they skidded on the grey stone.

Her own laboured breathing and that of Granda and Dr Malloy roared in her ears. Nothing of the outside world could be heard inside the narrow stairwell. The grounds had been pitch black as they hurried through them, the only sounds the near bare branches rattling in the wind, the deep rushing of the river that cut the estate in half and the tortured rasp of a fox's bark. But in the castle, it was only the sound of mortal breathing she could hear; all she could see was the stooped Tuatha ahead of her and all she could feel was the weight of all that stone piled above her head.

On and on the stairs went, until Maddy could feel the panic of claustrophobia clawing into her throat. Sweat beaded her brow and when at last cool night air opened over her head she threw herself forward gratefully to cling to a tooth of the battlements.

The wind at the top of the castle was a different animal. It shouldered its way past her, howling in her ear as it went. Below her she could see the pavilions of the Tuatha courts spread out and sounds of music and laughter drifted up to the lonely battlements. Liadan's white tent alone was silent.

‘Do you know why we are here?' asked Seamus as everyone gathered around Maddy, the Tuatha surrounding her with a glowing nimbus.

‘Haven't a clue,' said Maddy.

‘Do you know what the Blarney Stone is?'

Maddy shrugged. ‘I've heard a few legends. It was the gift of a goddess, or it's part of the battlements they used as a privy hole so the Irish could have great fun watching the English kiss a toilet. That's about it.'

Seamus sighed. ‘When are you going to learn not to speak lightly of things you know nothing about? The Blarney Stone was a gift from the Tuatha to the Celts. It's a Seeing Stone of the Coranied – it links this world directly to Tír na nÓg. Every time someone presses their
lips to the Stone, the Coranied harvest their dreams, their nightmares, for their mistress the Morrighan. Their Stones around Ireland are what feed the dark faeries and keep Tír na nÓg alive. For allowing the Coranied to tap into their minds, the ancient Celts were given a promise that Tír na nÓg would stand forever and the Tuatha would have no need to find territory in the mortal world.'

‘What's this got to do with me?' asked Maddy.

‘The Coranied are seers and prophets. They can see into the future, and if you have a part to play in bringing the attacker of the unicorn to justice, they will know. They answer only to the Morrighan and they want what she wants – balance. Balance keeps both our worlds safe. Tuatha and mortal alike can trust what they say.'

‘Will the Coranied know who attacked the mare?'

‘They might. But they see the past only in fragments.'

‘And if I do this, I can go?'

‘That depends on what the Stone judges your fate to be. The Stone will speak through you and we will all know its judgement.'

Maddy looked at Granda. His eyes were dark in his face and his lips were pressed into a straight line. He gave a slight nod. Maddy sighed. ‘Fine. Let's get it over with.'

The floors in the middle of the castle tower had crumbled away and the battlements were a mere cat-walk around a yawning pit. There was a thin iron rail fencing her off from certain death, but Maddy kept one hand on the stone skin of the battlements and walked as close to them as she could. The empty space that gaped just inches from her feet was an impenetrable black that gave no hint of the vertiginous drop and bone-shattering, organ-crushing landing that awaited her if she fell.

She walked cautiously to the area where the Blarney Stone was built into the battlements. It was a bit of a family tradition to kiss the Stone. Granny and Granda's house was full of pictures of her cousins doing it in their Holy Communion clothes, but this would be Maddy's first time. She peered down through the gap in the wall to the pale ribbon of the concrete path hundreds of feet below and gulped.

‘It's easy enough,' said Granda. ‘Just lie flat on your back, hold on to the bar in the wall, lean out and kiss the battlements. I'll have a tight hold of your legs.'

‘Do I have to kiss it?' asked Maddy, wrinkling her nose. ‘It doesn't look very hygienic.'

‘It hasn't killed anyone yet,' said Seamus. ‘Just put your hand on it, if you have to, but get a move on.'

So Maddy, not without a small amount of trepidation,
lay on her back and dangled her torso out over the dizzying drop. She screwed her eyes up to ignore the sight of treetops far below her and put her palm flat against the Blarney Stone.

For a second, nothing happened. Maddy felt the blood in her head rush to her eyeballs and thought,
Well, this makes me look really stupid
.

Then she felt a tugging sensation on her hand, and even though she could still see her own pink flesh against the Stone, she could definitely feel her hand being sucked into the Stone, the rock closing over it as tight as a vice.

She forgot the massive drop below her as panic took over and she twisted and bucked to pull her hand free. Seamus leaned down hard on her legs to keep her steady and said, ‘Relax, Maddy. Don't fight it. The sensation will pass in a moment, but you have got to relax. Your hand is fine – it's not really inside the Stone, it's just the way the Stone makes you feel as it makes a connection with you. Look at your hand, Maddy, you can see it!'

‘You come down here and relax!' she yelled, as her hair whipped around her face and her head began to throb.

As suddenly as it came, the sucking sensation was gone and Maddy could not see or hear anything. The world went black for a split second and then it was like someone had switched on a light. She was standing upright in a round stone room. She lifted her shaking hands in front of her face and then plucked at her clothes. Nothing was sealed in stone, no one was holding on to her and she was definitely the right way up. She looked around her and noticed
who
was in the room with her.

Twelve black-robed figures drifted toward her. She could not see a hand or hear a footfall and their faces were shrouded with such large hoods that all she could make out was pinpricks of light glittering in the rough vicinity of their eye sockets. The room was dimly lit by candles that smoked greasily. Cauldrons bubbled all around, books were stacked in every nook and cranny and a raven cocked its head to glare at her with its bright black eye on a perch that looked suspiciously like it was carved from bone.

The Coranied. Maddy felt like she had been dropped into a snake pit.

Feral Child
, whispered a dozen sibilant voices
in unison, the words blooming inside her head.
Welcome.

‘Where am I?' asked Maddy. ‘How did I get here?'

Your body is still at the castle, flesh joined to stone. Only your mind has travelled to speak with us in the Shadowlands of Tír na nÓg. Your body is no more than an illusion.

Without taking her eyes off the Coranied, Maddy reached out to touch a nearby stack of books. Her hand passed right through and she could feel nothing.

Why do you disturb us? Do you still seek death?

‘No, not any more,' said Maddy.

Ah, your heart does not tell it so, child. Anger and hate still run through your veins and lies drip from your tongue like snake venom. Why lie, when we can so easily give you what you want?

‘I
don't
want it,' said Maddy. ‘I'm not that girl any more.'

You will always be that child. Always.
The Coranied tipped their heads to one side and then the other in a mechanical gesture. The raven fluttered on its perch and cawed. The hissing voices continued.
Then if not for death, why come you? What does your head desire you to seek that it ignores the cries of your heart?

‘An answer,' said Maddy.

To what?

‘A question,' said Maddy. ‘Someone has attacked the unicorn mare …'

We know
, said the Coranied with an impatient twitch of twelve pairs of shoulders.
The whole world knows and hides its face in horror.

‘Who did it?' asked Maddy.

That we do not know. It is hidden from us.

‘Was it a faerie or a human?'

It is a thing that is neither one nor the other but with stripes of both.

‘Superb,' muttered Maddy. Louder she asked, ‘Can it be caught?'

The laughter that limped around the room sounded as dry and dusty as a corpse's cough.
That is not your question, Feral Child.

‘What
is
my question?'

WHO must track it, WHO must bring it to bay? And is that ‘who' you?

Maddy ground her teeth. ‘I know the answer to that question,' she said. ‘It's not going to be me. Not this time. I've done enough.'

There is no such thing as enough. It will be you, whether that pleases you or no.

‘Why?' asked Maddy, her angry tone ringing against the stone. ‘Because of fate? Destiny? I don't believe in that!'

Nor do we.

‘Then why?'

Balance. We live for order and peace. You bring balance between the mortal world and Tír na nÓg. The Morrighan charges us to maintain balance so that the Land never changes and her people are always safe. Some seek to disturb that balance. By your very nature, you are the counterpoint.

‘Why me?'

When their need is great, your people have a Hound that watches them in the night and guards against the Tuatha. Once there was a Hound in Ireland so fierce he dared to bark at Meabh and bar her way, when she craved a bull so pure and white she would have soaked the ground with the blood of men to have it. You are the new Hound. As we say, it is your nature. What kind of Hound you will be remains to be seen.

‘I won't do this!' said Maddy.

You will. It is your nature. Nor will you be alone. There is one who lives in Tír na nÓg who can help you. See …
The Coranied stepped to one side and raised cloaked arms to point at a cauldron.

Maddy walked over and gazed down at the water that bubbled away inside it. As she looked at it, the water smoothed to soft ripples. An image began to form just beneath the surface, of a man with long
shaggy black hair, dressed in blue plaid. His hair was plastered to his head with water and a massive sword was gripped in his hand. He was staring ahead of him, his face heavily lined by grief and anger. By his side sat a huge Irish wolfhound, its coat so wet with rain it seemed to drag its shoulders down. It turned its head to look at Maddy and its eyes were human, blue and sad. But the water began to bubble again and the image shattered and dissolved in front of her.

‘Who was that?' she asked.

That is Finn mac Cumhaill, the greatest hero Ireland has ever known. A man whose legend is so powerful it has taken on a life of its own and he lives now in the Shadowlands with his Fianna, his tribe. A powerful man still and a dangerous enemy.