‘I see something,’ said Bane. To the right.’
Vorna strained to peer into the mist. Then she saw it, a tiny flicker of light. ‘Over here!’ she called. The light froze in place momentarily, then slowly moved towards them.
The mist parted before it, and they saw Connavar the King advancing into the wood, his Seidh sword held before him, the blade gleaming brightly. The mist receded from it, the gnarled trunks of the old oaks looming out of the grey.
As the last of the mist disappeared Connavar thrust his sword back into its scabbard. Vorna climbed to her feet and looked into his scarred face. ‘I knew that you would come,’ she said. ‘And do you know why? Because this is the way of life you have been defending, a friend standing by a friend, ready to risk life for the sake of another. This, my dear, is Rigante!’
‘Let us find the Old Woman,’ he said gruffly. But even as he spoke he put his arm round Vorna and kissed her brow.
The three companions moved further into the wood. On the ground ahead of them lay a dead bird. It was large and black, the skull above its beak bare of feathers. Bane knelt by the bird. ‘It is the Morrigu’s crow,’ he whispered.
‘Bring it with us,’ said Vorna.
Bane lifted the bird. He was surprised by the weight. ‘It is heavier than a puppy,’ he said.
Vorna walked on, Connavar beside her, Bane following. There was no wind here, the temperature much higher than on the hillside. The companions came to a downward slope. ‘I remember this place,’ said Connavar. ‘This is where I came as a child.’
Vorna halted in her walk, and closed her eyes. ‘She is close.’
They moved on, splashing through a shallow stream, and on up a steep slope. Vorna stepped from the trail, and pushed her way through the undergrowth to a small clearing. The Morrigu was sitting propped against a tree. Ivy had grown over her legs and had covered one arm. There was moss upon her cloak, and a spider had weaved a web from her veil to the tree trunk. Vorna ran to her side.
‘How does a goddess die?’ whispered Bane.
‘She is not dead. Not yet,’ replied Vorna, laying her hands upon the veiled head. A low, feeble groan came from the Morrigu, and her ivy-covered arm twitched.
‘Where is my Bab?’ she whispered. Vorna swung to Bane.
‘Bring her the crow!’ Bane knelt on the other side of the Morrigu and laid the dead bird in her lap.
The Morrigu tried to move her arm. Connavar crouched down and ripped away the ivy. Slowly the old woman’s hand came up until it rested on the black feathers of the dead crow. She sighed then. Once more Vorna placed her hands on the head of the goddess, sending healing power surging into her. It was little more use than a drop of water to someone dying of thirst.
‘I should have passed the Gateway long before this,’ said the Morrigu, her voice a tiny whisper they had to strain to hear. Then her head sagged back against the tree.
‘Gateway?’ queried Bane.
‘Many of the Seidh have already crossed over,’ said Vorna, ‘seeking other worlds where magic is still strong. I don’t know why she remained so long.’
‘Where is this Gateway?’ asked Connavar. ‘Perhaps we could carry her there!’
‘I do not know,’ said Vorna. ‘I have not been so far into these woods before.’
‘Can you not Merge with her?’ asked Connavar. ‘You did this once before to save me.’
‘Merge with a Seidh? I do not know if I could, or whether my body or my soul could withstand it.’
‘It . . . could not,’ whispered the Morrigu. ‘And you cannot take me to the Gateway. It is guarded by a creature no human can overcome.’
Vorna took hold of her hand. ‘Show me the Gateway,’ she insisted.
A flicker of light glowed from under the skin of the Morrigu’s hand, and flowed along Vorna’s arm. The witch stiffened and cried out. Then she sagged into the arms of Connavar. ‘Oh, the pain,’ she whispered. She sat very still for a moment as the burning agony in her head receded. She glanced at the Morrigu, who was once more unconscious. ‘The Gateway is close by,’ said Vorna. ‘No more than half a mile to the south-east. It stands within a golden circle of stone. There is a path to it known as Piare la Naich, the Walk of Life. She must be carried along it, her body passing between the two tallest stones. But I saw the monster there. It is hideous and scaled. In some respects it is like a bear, though the talons and teeth are longer, and the hide tougher than leather. You heard what she said, no human can overcome it. What is it that we should do?’ she asked Connavar.