"Translate it, please," Johnny said.

"Knut says he wants only to stay here and earn his place in the community that has welcomed him. He believes his fighting skills could be of great use to you. He swears there will be no repet.i.tion of last night's events."

"One would certainly hope not," murmured Gull, who was seated beside me.

"Any more?" Johnny asked, looking at Knut directly.

"And he says," went on Jouko, translating, "it is his belief that all who were left on the serpent isle must have perished by now. As, indeed, he and his crewmen would have done if they had not sailed away when they did. The monster would have devoured them all. Knut says this is a fool's errand, the sort of venture only a man such as Felix here would have conceived, for he is a scholar, full of dreams and softness. He is no warrior. Such a man has not the courage to fight."

Johnny did not speak immediately; he let the poison of these words stand for a while, so that every man and woman present could take it in. Then he said, "Felix, do you wish to respond to this?"

Felix managed a crooked smile. "Few men could match my brother for courage. Now that he is gone, I must be brave enough for two."

"Well spoken," said Gull, and I heard others echo the sentiment.

"Knut," said Johnny, "you are far from understanding the way things are done in this community. Your fighting skills are exceptional, and that has earned you friends among us. We have a rule here that the past can be forgotten, provided a man or woman is ready to start afresh, with the right att.i.tudes and the right intentions. No, don't speak-I heard what you said before, and I remain unconvinced of your sincerity. Only last night you attempted to kill this man. You put my cousin in danger. That alone should earn you banishment from Inis Eala, as Sam quite correctly pointed out. But there's the question of Svala. She is not among us this morning-"

He halted, gazing toward the open doorway. I turned my head to see a familiar figure standing there, barefoot, with her damp hair straggling over her shoulders. The look on her face was that of a deer facing a pack of wolves. I rose to my feet, walked over and took her hand, guiding her forward.

Words burst out of Knut, a furious stream of Norse, and he strode across the chamber toward us, taking his guards by surprise. He was three paces from us before Niall seized him by the arms and restrained him. Svala's hand trembled in mine. Fine, strong woman that she was, she edged behind me as if my slight form might shield her. Her breathing was shallow and quick.

"Bring him back over here," Johnny said. "Knut, stand still and face me-I'm not finished. We don't have all of Svala's story yet, but it appears you may have done her a great wrong, albeit with the best of intentions. I welcome you here, Svala," a courteous nod, "and I hope we can set matters right for you."

"Set matters right? What do you mean?" demanded Knut.

"Sibeal believes Svala was taken from the serpent isle against her will," Johnny said levelly. "If that is shown to be true, then our mission will be not only to bring back the men who were left there, but to deliver Svala safely home."

A hubbub of talk greeted this. Johnny let it go for a while, then raised his hand for silence. "Knut, you will remain under guard for the foreseeable future. You'll stay away from Svala. You won't speak to her unless she requests it. As for your future, believe me, I am sorely tempted to banish you this instant. But I have always believed in giving a man a second chance."

I held my breath. How could he even think of having Knut on Inis Eala? The man did not know the difference between right and wrong. Or knew, and cared nothing for it.

"When Liadan sails for the serpent isle, you will be on board," Johnny said. "I'm not offering you a choice. If Svala wants to return there, you will take her. You will help our crew navigate. You will a.s.sist in the rescue of your abandoned comrades. When you come back from that place, if I see a change in you, a change I can truly believe in, then and only then will I consider your wish to remain among us. You are a good fighter. But we have many good fighters here."

By the time Jouko reached the end of his translation, Knut was no longer meeting Johnny's gaze. He looked down at his boots, one hand nervously twisting the leather strip around his neck. Eolh was a rune of defense. It could not defend him against a man like Johnny, a man who saw deep inside to the fear, the weakness, the lack of self-belief. It could not keep out the wisdom and compa.s.sion that were woven through this harsh decision.

"Sibeal," Johnny said, turning toward the doorway, "does Svala wish to speak? Can she do so through you?"

Now that Knut had been moved further away, Svala was steadier, but I felt her unease. The four walls, the fire, the press of folk, the sound of voices, everything unnerved her. She had come because she knew it was important. It was taking an immense effort of will for her to stay. It had been hard enough to convey my meaning to her down on the sh.o.r.e with only my sisters present.

"She will be happy with what you've decided," I said. "I will explain it to her in private." After a moment I added what I sensed to be true. "She thanks you for undertaking the mission. From the bottom of her heart. She has already told me how much she yearns to go back to that place."

"Are you taking more questions?" someone asked.

"If you need the answer now, yes," Johnny said.

"It's not so much a question as a comment." The speaker stood up and was revealed to be Badger, one of the older men. "I reckon there's one thing a man would want to know before putting his hand up for this, and that's whether there's a chance anyone could still be alive in that place. I understand that we can't know that. But if we could, it would make the choice a lot easier. If they're alive, it's a heroic quest. If they're all dead, it's a fool's errand."

Cathal stirred. He had stood behind Clodagh throughout the meeting, motionless and silent, his features set grimly. I met his eye, and a kind of recognition pa.s.sed across his face. Would he break his self-imposed rule and offer to scry for this information? His comrades knew his parentage was somewhat unusual. I doubted that they understood the extent of his abilities, or the risks he faced in using them. Clodagh was frowning. I looked back toward my cousin.

"It's a fair comment, Badger," Johnny said. "As you say, we can't know. We must rely on what these dreams and visions tell us, and on our sense of what is right. No man should feel any compulsion to put his name forward. I will not think badly of any man for not wanting to go."

One of the younger men stood up, a st.u.r.dily built fellow with weathered skin and a head shaven bald as an egg. "I have a question for Felix."

Felix was tired. His face was waxen pale, but he held his shoulders square. Johnny glanced at him and he nodded.

"I've been a crewman on a trading vessel between Dublin and the isles," said the young warrior. "The voyage you're talking about would mean days at sea with no sc.r.a.p of land in sight; uncertain weather; no real means to chart a course. Cramped conditions, little rest, limited supplies. You tell us you're no sailor, yet you say you're coming on this trip. I'll be blunt. This is a venture suited only to the strongest and hardiest of men. You may have done the trip once already, but it wasn't as a crewman. And haven't you been confined to the infirmary since the day you got here, under constant supervision, barely able to leave your bed? Scholar, aren't you? If I were choosing a crew to undertake such a mission, you'd be one of the last men I'd pick."

"That's blunt," I heard Gull murmur.

"I understand your argument," said Felix, rising to his feet once more. "By the time Liadan sets out for the serpent isle, I will be ready."

A brief silence followed this statement, which was delivered in a voice both confident and strong. From where I stood with Svala near the doorway, I could see that Felix had his hands clutched together behind his back to conceal their shaking.

"Five coppers says I can get him fit in time," called out Gull, a grin spreading across his dark features. "Any takers?"

There was a roar of laughter, followed by a chorus of offers. If these men liked anything it was a wager. Thus the meeting ended in a spirit of goodwill. Whether that feeling would continue once everyone had time to think about what lay ahead remained to be seen.

Not everyone in the hall was diverted from the matter in hand by Gull's moment of humor. Cathal always looked somber, but today he seemed to be walking under a personal shadow. I wondered what had provoked his apology to Felix last night, when he had spoken of misjudging him. Gareth was not his usual cheerful self. I put that down to lack of sleep; but perhaps he sensed an impending parting. If no other likely leader for the voyage offered his services, Gareth might feel honor bound to volunteer, taking on a duty Johnny could not perform himself. Such was the complicated bond of loyalty between this pair who were lovers, best friends and fellow warriors. My sisters were very quiet. n.o.body had mentioned that I, too, would be traveling on Liadan, cramped conditions, trackless ocean, limited supplies and all. There were still some battles to be won.

"Svala, we can go now," I murmured, motioning to the outdoors. "Come with me." I felt in her trembling grip a powerful need for flight. But I kept my hold on her until we were out in the yard, the two of us momentarily alone. "It's all right," I said, holding her with my hands and my eyes. "You will be safe now. Knut is not coming back to your cottage, or to your bed, unless you want that. And we will take you home." I willed her to understand me; I made pictures in my mind, simple pictures I hoped would make sense to her. We stood there until other people began coming out of the dining hall. Their voices broke my concentration, and the link was gone. I felt suddenly drained. My knees had no strength. "Go now, if you want," I said, releasing Svala's hands.

She was off in a flash, running down toward the bay in her bare feet with her hair streaming out behind her. Had I seen a smile before she turned away?

"Sibeal!" Clodagh was there beside me, holding my arm, keeping me upright. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm a little dizzy. I need to sit down."

"Come back inside, let me get you some mead-"

"I'm fine, Clodagh . . . "

"Rubbish, you're about to faint. Now do as you're told."

Spots danced before my eyes; I felt sick. Quite clearly, my legs were not going to carry me anywhere. I allowed my sister to steer me to a bench outside the hall, where I sat with my head bent over my knees, waiting for the weakness to pa.s.s. In the light of that man's comment about Felix not being fit enough to travel, this was unfortunate. It became even more unfortunate when Johnny came out of the hall and moved to crouch down beside me. "Are you ill, Sibeal?"

I shook my head. A bad idea; my stomach roiled. "No, I'm . . . it's just . . . with Svala, it can be exhausting . . . "

"Clodagh will take you over to the infirmary to rest," Johnny said. "After last night, this is not surprising. Sibeal, you and I need to talk later. I'll come and see you when you've had some sleep."

"I need to go," I said with my eyes shut. "The G.o.ds . . . "

"Shh," Johnny said. "We're going to do this calmly, carefully, with the best preparation we can. Time enough to talk when you've rested. Could you walk now?"

People were streaming out of the hall and back to their work. The eyes of every potential crew member of Liadan might be on me. "Of course," I said, rising to my feet and feeling the earth tilt beneath me. "I'll just-" I took one step, then fell into darkness.

I woke in my little chamber, feeling perfectly well though still somewhat weary. I lay there awhile, looking at my charcoal runes and wishing very much that I had not demonstrated such weakness in public. I could remember little after I fainted, but I did have a dim recollection of someone carrying me, and Clodagh tilting a cup of water so I could drink. The light around the door suggested it might be midafternoon. I must get up, dress, prepare myself. Some time today I would have to present my case to Johnny; I had no doubt that was what he wanted to discuss with me. My collapse was not going to make things any easier. Perhaps I should be asking Gull to train me as well as Felix.

It was very quiet in there. Maybe everyone was catching up on sleep. I got out of bed, picked up my shoes and pulled the curtain aside.

The only person in the infirmary was Felix, and he was not asleep but standing by the hearth looking straight at me, as if he had been waiting for me to emerge. I wished I had brushed my hair before I came out. I wished . . . And then, without thinking much about it at all, I walked straight across to him, and he opened his arms, and I went into them. He had held me once before, briefly, but this was different. It felt like coming home from a long journey, and at the same time it felt like the first day of spring, when all the beauty and possibility of the season lies ahead. We stood there without speaking a word, his arms around my shoulders, mine around his waist, my cheek against his heart, his fingers moving against my hair. I will not think beyond this moment, I told myself. I will store this up to remember always.

It was Felix who stepped back first, taking my hands in his and lifting them to his lips for a moment. "You look pale," he said in a voice that was markedly unsteady.

I had thought my cheeks might be as bright as rosebuds. My blood was surging; inexperienced as I was, I recognized the signs of desire in my body. "I'm quite well," I said, but in truth I was confused, troubled and perilously happy all at the same time. "I was tired, not sick. I must have been sleeping for ages-where is everyone? Did you rest?" I heard myself babbling, filling the silence with empty words. I made myself stop. I sat down on the bench by the hearth, and Felix sat beside me, holding my hand. His touch warmed me all through. I could not make myself withdraw my fingers from his clasp, though it seemed to me I should, for what had just occurred between us must not be encouraged.

"I worked with Gull for a while, then he sent me back here to rest. But I have not slept; my mind is too full for that. Gull has gone down to the married quarters to sleep. He was struggling to stay awake. Evan and Muirrin are talking to Johnny. And I am here, as you see. Waiting for you to wake up, Sibeal."

After what had just happened, I felt oddly shy with him. "You seem different," I said.

"I am the same man I was yesterday."

"Stronger. More sure of yourself. Yesterday, I would have thought you could never be ready in time to make such a voyage. Today, I don't doubt that you will be."

"Johnny believes me," Felix said. "That makes all the difference. If I seem stronger to you, that is good. I must convince every man who goes on the mission that I can play my part." He hesitated. "Sibeal . . . there is something I must say to you. I think it will not please you."

I had no idea what he meant. I hoped he was not about to say anything that would spoil the memory of his arms around me, his tender touch, the touch not of a friend, but of a lover. I could still feel it, a gift, a promise, a rare thing to be cherished, wrong as it was.

"Sibeal," he went on, "I believe in you, I believe in your capacity to guide this. Who else can interpret for Svala? Who else can hear the voices of the G.o.ds? I understand why it is important for you to come on the voyage. The runes do not lie. If you were a stranger to me, I suppose I would think what most of the island folk will think: that you cannot possibly have the strength to endure such a mission. The people of Inis Eala know you are strong in spirit, wise beyond your years. They also saw you faint away this morning. They see how slight you are, how delicately made. How could they imagine you on a ship sailing through mountainous seas toward an isle of myths and monsters?"

"I know that, Felix," I said. "But I don't need to convince the entire population of Inis Eala that I'm more than a helpless young girl. I only need to convince one person: Johnny."

Felix did not reply, simply sat there looking at me.

"Go on, then. Say it, whatever it is."

He cleared his throat. "Sibeal, I do not want you to come on the voyage."

It hit me like the punch of a hard fist. Any trace of druidic calm left me; I felt winded. "What?" I said, springing to my feet.

"Sibeal, I speak not as the man who shared that runic divination, but as the man who held you in his arms only a heartbeat ago. The mission is too perilous. You should not go." He reached to take my hands again, but I folded my arms. My heart had become a cold stone.

"How can you say that?" It was not the voice of a serene druid, but the shaky tone of the vulnerable girl who fainted when overwhelmed; the quivering voice of the young woman who had melted in his arms a few moments ago. I was losing myself. This could not be allowed to happen.

"Sibeal, let me explain, please. All I am trying to do is be honest with you, but . . . "

"But what, Felix?"

"You're angry. I have upset you."

"I thought you believed in me. I thought you were the one person who trusted me completely. I thought you saw my strength and not my weakness." Oh G.o.ds, now I was crying. "I thought you understood."

"Oh, Sibeal." He reached up to brush the tears from my cheek, and I shut my eyes, unable to bear the naked feeling on his face. There was such tenderness in his touch, I could not armor my heart against it. I knew I should step away, but my feet refused to move. "Sibeal, please listen. I believe in you. I know why you must come on the voyage. If you wish, I will support you when you speak to Johnny. But . . . now that it seems this journey might be real, that we might actually go there and find them, I cannot stop thinking of what might happen to you. If you were killed, if I lost you, I think my heart would break. I weigh it up-your death against the rescue of the men we left-and I begin to doubt the wisdom of the mission. I cannot doubt. I must do this for Paul."

My eyes were open now. "Oh, Felix," I said, and I put my hand against his cheek. "Don't think that. Don't doubt." His hand came over mine. "Besides," I made myself say, "I'm destined for a future in the nemetons. We'll be saying goodbye at the end of summer, whatever happens."

Felix closed his eyes. His voice was so quiet, he might have been speaking for himself alone. "That makes no difference," he said. "It cannot alter what I feel."

And despite myself, I knew this for the deepest kind of truth; for the same conviction had awoken in my own heart. "I know," I murmured. "And I'm sorry." Sorry for you. Sorry for myself; oh, so sorry.

"Sorry that you met me?" Felix was trying for a smile, without much success. "Or sorry that we must risk our lives together, for a mission with such small likelihood of success?"

"I will never be sorry that I met you, Felix. It was . . . a privilege. A gift. As for the mission, I trust the G.o.ds. They've shown us we can achieve this if we are brave enough. And we can be very brave, the two of us. The day you were washed up on the sh.o.r.e here, we proved that."

"You are brave, Sibeal. I, not quite so courageous. Twice you have saved my life, once on the sh.o.r.e and once last night, with your . . . diversion. I hope I can be brave enough to take you into danger and still act with balance and wisdom. I hope my terror for you does not paralyze me."

"When I was a little girl," I told him, swallowing tears, "sometimes my sisters would tell me I did too much thinking, when I should have been running about and climbing trees. Right now, we're probably both doing too much thinking. If we trust each other, we'll get through this. Other considerations don't matter."

Someone was coming; I heard footsteps outside and the rattle of the back door.

"Sibeal?" Felix murmured.

"Mm?" My fingers brushed his cheek, moved away.

"You have shown me both your strength and your weakness," he said. "That, too, was a privilege. It was a gift of great worth. More than I deserve."

Then, as Muirrin came in carrying a basket, with Evan close behind, Felix stood up and moved away, and I turned my back, finding myself quite unable to enter into an ordinary conversation. Feeling the opposite of brave, I mumbled something about the bathhouse, headed out the front door and fled.

I allowed myself the luxury of a long soak. Clodagh washed my hair for me and lent me fresh clothing, a skirt and tunic of her own weave in two shades of green. She did not ask if I had been crying. Indeed, she seemed unusually distracted, and not in the mood for talk. When I was clean and tidy I went out walking. I would talk to Johnny when I came back. Fang was still down on the jetty. Not far from her, two lads were fishing with hand lines. As I watched, one of the boys threw a small fish, and the dog caught it with the ease of long practice. Fang would not starve before her beloved Snake came home.

On the cliff path, halfway to the north point, I found Cathal sitting on the rocks looking out to sea. With his dark cloak wrapped around him and his black hair lifted off his long face by the afternoon breeze, he looked like a sorrowful prince from an ancient tale. As I came up he shifted over to make room so I could sit beside him. We watched the play of wind and water for a little, and then he said, "They're alive, Sibeal. At least three of them."

Perhaps I should not have been shocked, but I was. "You went to the seer's cave?"

Cathal sighed. "There seemed no choice. I can't let men put their lives at risk over this if it might be a pointless mission. Not when I possess the ability to summon a true vision. Yes, I made use of the scrying pool. I saw the three survivors in a cave, high up among the crags. That isle is a desolate place. They had a few supplies: some kind of large covering that they were using for warmth, one or two other things-I don't suppose Knut and his friends paused to reload what had been taken from the ship before they put back out to sea. The three I saw were . . . not in good condition. I hope Liadan gets here soon." A shiver ran through him. "Sibeal, that place is just as it was in my dreams. It makes me wonder who, or what, had the power to bring those dreams to Inis Eala. That's a remarkable gift, if gift it can be called. Someone has drawn us into the shadow of his own nightmares. Or hers."

I considered this awhile. "Do you still think Mac Dara could be involved?" I asked eventually. "It would be a convoluted way of exposing you to danger."

"He cannot exert his influence within the borders of Inis Eala," Cathal said, staring out across the ocean. "He must draw me out. My father is completely unscrupulous. He cares nothing at all for lives lost by the wayside. And he's easily bored. A sea monster is precisely the sort of detail that would amuse him."

"There's no certainty, is there?" I mused. "You can't know whether your father is involved unless you leave Inis Eala, and even then you might not be able to tell. He might be manipulating this from far away."

"Correct, Sibeal. All of this, everything that has happened, might be entirely unrelated to his struggle with me. I will not summon him to the scrying bowl. To do so would imperil all I hold dear." He drew a deep breath. "Your friend will be relieved to hear that some, at least, of his comrades still live. He interests me. So weakened by his experiences, clearly no warrior, yet full of courage where this mission is concerned. I misjudged him badly. I believed him an agent of my father. But even my father is not subtle enough to use an agent such as this. Unless he does so without Felix's knowledge."

"Cathal," I said, not sure if he would listen or snap at me for interfering, "you're doing what Felix was doing; you're thinking too much. The mission will go ahead, whether what happened is Mac Dara's doing or not. Every person on the ship will be there of his own free will. Except for Knut, I suppose, but he brought this on himself. As for your father, he doesn't want Felix or Svala or me, he wants you. Or your son. You know you can protect Clodagh and the baby. All you need do is stay on Inis Eala."

And then there drew out a terrible silence, a silence in which I was the one who was thinking too much, and cringing from what Cathal was not saying.

"You wouldn't go," I said in a horrified whisper. "With Clodagh's child coming so soon, you wouldn't even think of being part of this." But I saw it clearly: the waves, the tide, the monster and Cathal's particular skill in water magic. His presence on this particular mission might be the difference between success and bitter failure. Between life and death.

"Go back to the settlement, Sibeal." Cathal used his most forbidding tone, the one that said with perfect clarity, Leave me alone. "Johnny wants to talk to you."

And, since only Clodagh was prepared to stand up to him when he was in this particular mood, I obeyed. I walked back oblivious to my surroundings. How could he consider being part of this? How could he leave, when it almost certainly meant he would not be here for the birth of his first child? I knew some men placed little importance on such things, but Cathal was no ordinary man. He loved my sister with heart and soul. And the child . . . this was the child Mac Dara wanted, the child Cathal's father would do anything to take for his own. If Cathal left the island he put himself straight into Mac Dara's path. If he was killed Clodagh and her baby would be all alone. For Cathal to go away was . . .

Stop it, Sibeal. Do not judge him. If I were choosing the crew for the voyage, whom would I select, a young woman with no sailing skills at all, or a proven warrior, a leader, a superb fighter? A fainting, weeping girl who was starting to lose sight of the druid she purported to be, or a pract.i.tioner of powerful water magic? I must not let my emotions get the better of my common sense. Above all, I must banish the feeling of guilt that was rising in me as I imagined first one, then another of my family hurt or killed because I had believed this voyage was the G.o.ds' will. I could not allow myself to be crippled by doubt, for if I lost my faith in this mission, I could not help Felix hold on to his.

I had been rehearsing what I would say to Johnny, thinking how best to convince him that the will of the G.o.ds must overrule his feelings of responsibility toward a young female cousin in his care. I found him in the garden outside the back door of the infirmary, sitting on the bench waiting for me. The sun was dipping down to the west; it touched Johnny's tired features with a soft gold light. Not that there was much softness about this man. He could be both kind and compa.s.sionate. But he was a warrior and a leader, and when it came to difficult choices, he would not waste time. He would make his decision and stand by it.

Perhaps that was why he did not wait to hear the arguments I had carefully a.s.sembled, but spoke before I could even begin.