The moaning wind had stilled. Liam's small gasps of pain and Brighid's murmurs of encouragement seemed suddenly unnaturally loud in the echoing pass, so she easily heard Cuchulainn before she saw him.
"Thank the Goddess." Brighid's breath came out in a rush. "You're doing so well, brave one." She smiled up at Liam.
"I want to be brave. Huntresses are brave," the boy said.
"You are being an excellent Huntress, Liam." What else could she say? If pretending to be a centaur helped him bear the pain of his wound and kept him from falling over the edge, then he could damned well pretend away.
Before Brighid turned to meet Cu she spared a glance at the opposite side of the pass. It was empty.
There was no dark-clothed warrior holding a black bow. No golden hawk diving in attack. Where had they gone? They couldn't be a hallucination, or even ghostly apparitions, Liam's wound was evidence that she had not imagined them.
Cuchulainn's gelding sprinted into the widened area of the pass. When he caught sight of Brighid standing so close to the wall - so disturbingly like the blood-drenched vision he had seen - the deadly sound of his claymore being unsheathed rang with metallic intensity against the rock.
"It's Liam!" she shouted, pointing up at the small, crumpled shape hanging precariously over the edge.
The warrior's hard, battle-ready face shifted and visibly softened. Quickly Cu reined the gelding around the boulders that separated them and galloped to Brighid's side.
"By the Goddess! What happened here?"
"Don't be mad at me, Cuchulainn," Liam said pitifully.
"Tell him you're not mad at him," Brighid whispered under her breath.
Cu frowned at her, but called up to the boy, "I am not angry, Liam."
"Cu's here to help, brave one," Brighid said. "Just rest quietly and he'll get you down." She turned to Cuchulainn, speaking fast and keeping her voice low. "An archer shot him." She gestured up at the place so recently vacated by the dark warrior. "From there. He's gone now. I don't know where."
"Did he see that you were with the boy?"
Brighid shook her head. "No, not until after he'd already shot him. He looked shocked when he saw me." The Huntress carefully avoided all mention of golden hawks and voices in her head.
Cuchulainn's gaze narrowed. "How was the archer dressed?"
"Dark," she said. "That's all I could see from here."
"Did you see the arrow?"
She nodded. "Black. It was dark like the - " Her breath caught with sudden realization. "He was a Guardian Warrior."
"Yes."
"What was he thinking! He could have killed Liam."
"He was probably thinking that he was protecting Partholon from a winged demon."
"But they know that we're bringing the children into Partholon!" Brighid said.
"They have no way of knowing that we are coming through Guardian Pass." Cu dismounted and walked over to the sheer wall, studying the narrow path that angled sharply up the side of it. "The last anyone knew we were leading the children through a hidden pass well west of here." He returned to his saddlebag for leather gloves. "The warrior was only fulfilling his duty."
Brighid snorted, but Liam's voice interrupted her retort.
"It's fire," he called down to the centaur and the warrior.
"I know, brave one. It must feel like fire." She automatically soothed the boy.
"No." He lifted his head and gestured weakly to the opposite wall. "There - it's fire."
Their eyes followed the boy's finger. Farther down the pass, on the same side from which the archer had shot Liam, yellow flames danced against the darkening sky.
"What is it?" Cuchulainn asked the boy. "Can you see?"
Biting his lip Liam pulled himself up straighter. Brighid opened her mouth to tell the boy to stay still, but Cuchulainn's firm hand on her arm stopped her words. Liam struggled a moment more, and then with a small moan he sat up, his wing fluttering brokenly across his lap.
"It's like a campfire, only it's the biggest campfire I've ever seen. And there's nothing around it."
"Good job, Liam. Hold tight. I'll be right up." Cuchulainn strode to the wall, pulling on his gloves. Then to Brighid he said, "It's the Guardian Warrior's signal. The pyres are lit to call the warriors. It means the pass has been breached."
"But we're not fighting the warriors of Partholon!"
"Not yet we're not. Boost me up. I need to get him down. It won't take them long to get here."
"I don't like this," Brighid muttered, bending to make a cradle of her linked hands for the warrior's foot.
He stepped into it and she lifted him up to the path. "Be careful," she said to his back. "It's narrow."
He grumbled something unintelligible.
While Cuchulainn scaled the sheer wall Brighid's attention moved nervously from the warrior to the wounded boy who waited so patiently to the open end of the wide pass. The archer had been one of the famed Guardian Warriors. She should have known - she would have realized who he was if her thoughts hadn't been filled with broken children and talking birds. She'd never been to Guardian Castle, but she knew the warriors stationed there were ever-vigilant, and that they wore black to show their eternal mourning for mistakes of the past.
More than one hundred years ago the Guardian Warriors had become lax. Partholon was at peace, and had been for centuries. The demonic Fomorian race was no more than ancient history, faded into the bad dreams of children. No one guessed that the demons had been readying themselves for generations to return to Partholon as conquerors and masters. The Guardian Warriors were not prepared for the demonic onslaught, and were easily overrun, allowing death and evil to break into Partholon.
The black uniforms they now wore were their visible oath to Partholon that the warriors' vigilance would never again fail. They were formidable, and Brighid did not relish the idea of fighting them. Especially since her only allies were a depressed warrior and a wounded child.
Her brother would say they were damned stupid odds. She rarely agreed with her brother, but this time was a definite exception.
A cry from behind her had her spinning around. Ciara was at the head of the New Fomorians as they poured into the pass. Her lovely face was twisted into an expression of shock and horror as she stared up at Liam. Her cry was soon echoed by the distraught group surrounding her.
Brighid moved forward quickly to meet Ciara.
"Liam is fine." The Huntress pitched her voice so that it would carry above the children's cries. "He has been injured, but Cuchulainn is going to bring him down. Right now why don't we all take a little break while Ciara lights a campfire to warm everyone up?"
Ciara stood mute, staring over Brighid's shoulder at Liam.
"Ciara!" Brighid hissed. "Build the damned fire and get yourself together."
The winged woman snapped out of her daze, and with a nod to Brighid, called for fodder to be brought for the fire.
The Huntress's eyes searched the milling crowd of upset children until she found a familiar face. "Kyna, I don't think I remember the name of your Healer. Perhaps you could help me?"
The little girl blinked tears from her eyes and wiped at her wet cheeks. "Nara." The child looked around on tiptoes, until she spotted an adult figure who was working her way toward Brighid from the rear of the group. "There she is."
"Thank you, Kyna."Keep them busy, Brighid reminded herself. "And Kyna, I need your help. Could you and some of the children take charge of Cuchulainn's horse? Maybe you could rub him down so that he'll be ready to travel again soon?" Pitiful doggy whines reminded the Huntress of something else that needed tending to. "And take special care of Fand. You know how she gets when Cu's too busy to reassure her," Brighid added.
"Of course, Brighid!" Kyna nodded vigorously, and instantly began giving orders to several other children.
"I am Nara, the Healer." The New Fomorian was tall, thin, with pale blond hair and eyes that were an unusual shade of moss-green.
Brighid's attention still roved restlessly. She kept imagining hordes of black-garbed warriors descending upon them with drawn bows. She spoke quickly to the Healer, careful to keep her voice low so the children wouldn't overhear.
"Liam's wing has been pierced by an arrow. It didn't happen long ago, but even from down here I can tell he's lost more blood than is good for him. I couldn't get up there to stop the bleeding, and he was too weak to make it down by himself." She looked into the Healer's eyes. "He's in a lot of pain."
The Healer touched the centaur's arm. "I can help him."
Brighid glanced up at the top of the rock wall. Cuchulainn was there, crouching beside the boy. The warrior had his shirt off and was tearing it into strips to bind Liam's wing to his side.
"I will help the warrior bring the boy down," Nevin said, calling Brighid's attention back to the ground.
"As will I," Curran said.
"No, I need the two of you here," the Huntress said sharply. "Nara, help Cuchulainn with Liam, and hurry."
The Healer nodded and, with wings spread, she navigated the steep trail easily. Brighid turned to the twins.
"Liam was shot by one of the Guardian Warriors," she said bluntly. "The signal fire has been lit. The warriors are on their way here." Brighid's first response was to order the twins to arm the adults and bring them to the front of the group where they could best protect the children, but the thought of the winged people greeting Partholonians with weapons made her stomach tighten. That's not the way - it couldn't betheir way. If they chose to greet the Guardian Warriors armed, how would they appear any different than their demonic forefathers? The Huntress drew a deep breath.Epona, please let me be doing the right thing.
"Spread word to the other adults. Have them stay scattered among the children. Tell them to sit, to blend in with the young ones." The twins nodded slowly at her.
"We understand. We are not our fathers."
"No, you're not. And this will not begin another war," she said firmly.