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cruder, and seeming much out of place. Whatever filled it was boiling
angrily, the bubbling sound loud in the surrounding quiet.
But there was something very odd about it. Lugh stared, irritated that
his mind had suddenly grown so muddled. Then, with a start of surprise,
he realized what was wrong. The boiling cauldron had no fire beneath
itl
Curious, he started forward, aware of a great weariness dragging at his
legs.
"Not too close to that now, lad," Manannan said warningly.
Lugh stopped. Even at his considerable distance from the cauldron, he
could feel the heat that radiated from it.
"How can it be boiling without any flame?" he asked.
"Do you see that pole?" Manannan asked.
Lugh did see it now. A slim length of dull, grey metal was suspended
from a support above the cauldron, one end immersed in the liquid which
foamed up whitely about it.
"Well, there's a spearhead fixed to that with an energy so great that
the liquid in that cauldron barely manages to keep it cool enough for
us to come this close. Its slightest touch is deadly, and only a
warrior with the proper power can wield it."
He shook his head. "It's a most amazing thing," he said with a touch of
awe. "But I've never really understood it myself."
"Never understood it?" Lugh said, surprised. "What do you mean? It's
yours, isn't it?"
Seeing the boy's point, Manannan tried to explain.
"Well, it's not mine, you see. I mean, not really mine. It's only in my
care, like the other things. Like this!" He held up
the sword called Answerer, then walked to the low, square block, laying
the weapon carefully on its top. He turned back to Lugh, gesturing at
the other objects.
"All these things are really extraordinary. That large cauldron there,
for instance, can never be emptied. Never! And its food can restore the
power and energy to whomever eats, no matter how weak." His voice was
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filled with pride now as he described his charges, like a father with
his children. He walked to the rounded stone and patted its top
lovingly. "And this.. - this is the Lia Fail, the Stone of Truth! It
never lies!"
"It talks?" said Lugh in a thick, bemused way.
"In a manner of speaking. To say it... well... moans would be more
accurate."
He moved back to Lugh. "All of them are waiting here until the time
comes when they'll be needed. Until then I'm their guardian."
"Do you know who'll use these things and when?"
"Certainly," Manannan answered casually. "It's a bit in the future
yet."
"Then, your magic can give that land of knowledge to you?"
"It can," the man said with a certain pride.
Lugh turned to him eagerly.
"If you can know such things, then you must know about me... about who
I am... why I was sent to you. I have so many questions . . ."
"Of course you do," the tall man agreed pleasantly, moving close to
Lugh. "But, you're very tired now."
And, as he spoke, Lugh realized that he was. It had been growing like a
weight upon him since he'd arrived, since he'd had that drink. Now
everything around him was blurring, and a glow seemed to rise, blossom
out from the sunlit trees and meadows about him, join together in one
golden haze and envelop him. Even the smiling face of Manannan so near
him was dimming, fading into the mist.
"You rest now," Manannan said quietly. "Rest and we'll talk later."
Lugh fought against it. He didn't want to rest. He wanted to ask
questions. He wanted answers.
"Manannan, help me!" he pleaded.
The long arm fell about his shoulders again. The face was
28
THE RIDERS OF THE SIDHE
THE SEA GOD
29
only a pale moon above the clouds. The voice was a lulling sound from
far away.
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"I'll help you, lad. Now rest. Just rest."
A fluttering alarm struggled upward like a wounded bird into his
failing consciousness. Had Manannan lied to him? Had it really all been
just a trap which had finally closed on him?
He had no will left to fight it. He surrendered and let himself slip
into the welcoming darkness.
The figure swooped forward, the immense head coming out of the shadows.
The eye clicked open, no slit now, but a line, a narrow beam of energy
that struck the captain.
At once he was a torch, a pillar of intense fire that licked out at
those around him.
He had not even time to scream. His open mouth disappeared in the fire
that crackled over him, shriveled and curled him into a blackened,
smouldering slug upon the floor.
The acrid scent of burned flesh and hair was heavy in the air of the
closed room, now filled with smoke. But immediately a humming sound
arose somewhere beyond the walls, and a light breeze arose, pulling off
the smoke through vents in the high ceiling.
The other officers reformed, leaving a wide space around the pile. None
of them dared to glance at it, to look away from Balor.
The eye was a slit again, its destructive energy penned. But the voice [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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