than I; those last days he became adept at keeping me out.
There were times when I
think he dreaded to let down his guard; he had a wound deep to the spirit, and he would not share it, not even with me. But he had the other skill as well, the ability to use the power of his mind for healing. When
I was—when I was hurt and thought the world would never be right again, he—he touched me with his mind; he blocked out the bad things; he held my thoughts with his own until the night was over. Later, he used this same skill on my father, whose mind was deeply damaged by the work of the Sorceress, the
Lady Oonagh. She kept Father dancing to her will for three long years while my brothers were under the enchantment. And Lord Colum was not a weak man; he wrestled with his own guilt and shame, and yet he could not deny her. When we returned home at last, he scarcely knew us.
Bringing him back to himself took many patient days and nights. There is a heavy price for the use of this healing power.
Afterward Finbar was—drained, scarce himself. He was like a man who has undergone the fiercest ordeals of body and spirit. Only the strongest may withstand this."
I looked at her with a question in my eyes.
"You are strong, Liadan. I cannot tell you if and when you may be called to use this gift. Perhaps never.
It's best you know, at least. He would be able to tell you more."
"He? You mean—Finbar?" Now we were on fragile ground indeed.
Mother turned to look out of the window. "It grew again so beautifully," she said. "The little oak Red planted for me that will one day be tall and noble, the lilac, the hearing herbs. The Sorceress could not destroy us. Together, we were too strong for her." She looked back at me. "The magic Page 21
is powerful in you, Liadan. And there is one more thing in your favor."
"What's that?" I asked. Her words were both fascinating and terrifying.
"He showed me once; Finbar. I came close to asking him what the future would hold for me. He showed me a moment of time. There was Niamh, dancing along a forest path with her hair like golden fire, a child with a gift for happiness. And Sean, running, running to catch up with her.
I saw my children and Red's. And—and there was another child. A child who was—shut out. On the
edge, so that I could never quite see. But that child was not you, Daughter. Of that I am certain.
Had it been you, I would have known the moment you were born and laid in my arms."
"But—but why wasn't I there? Sean and I are of an age. Why would I not be in your vision, too?"
"I saw the same vision earlier," said my mother slowly. "When I—but both times, you were not there.
Only that other child, closed off from the picture. I believe you are somehow outside the pattern, Liadan.
If this is so, it could give you great power, dangerous power. It could allow you to— change things. In these visions, it was not foretold that Sean's birth would bring forth a second child.
That sets you apart. I
have believed, for a long time, that the Fair Folk guide our steps. That they work their great plans through us. But you are not in their scheme. Perhaps you hold some sort of key."
It was too much to take in. Still, I could not but believe her, for my mother always told the truth, no more and no less.
"Then what about the third child in the vision?" I asked. "The child on the margin, in the shadows?"
"I cannot tell who that was. Only—it was a child who had given up all hope. That is a terrible thing. Why
I was shown this, there is no telling. In time, perhaps you will find out."
I shivered again. "I'm not sure that I want to."
Mother smiled and got up. "These things have a habit of finding you, whether you like it or not,"
she said.
"Conor was right. There's no point in feeling guilty or worrying about what may come. Put one foot before the other and follow your path. That's all we can do."
"Hmm." I glanced at her. It sounded as if my own particular path might be rather
There were times when I
think he dreaded to let down his guard; he had a wound deep to the spirit, and he would not share it, not even with me. But he had the other skill as well, the ability to use the power of his mind for healing. When
I was—when I was hurt and thought the world would never be right again, he—he touched me with his mind; he blocked out the bad things; he held my thoughts with his own until the night was over. Later, he used this same skill on my father, whose mind was deeply damaged by the work of the Sorceress, the
Lady Oonagh. She kept Father dancing to her will for three long years while my brothers were under the enchantment. And Lord Colum was not a weak man; he wrestled with his own guilt and shame, and yet he could not deny her. When we returned home at last, he scarcely knew us.
Bringing him back to himself took many patient days and nights. There is a heavy price for the use of this healing power.
Afterward Finbar was—drained, scarce himself. He was like a man who has undergone the fiercest ordeals of body and spirit. Only the strongest may withstand this."
I looked at her with a question in my eyes.
"You are strong, Liadan. I cannot tell you if and when you may be called to use this gift. Perhaps never.
It's best you know, at least. He would be able to tell you more."
"He? You mean—Finbar?" Now we were on fragile ground indeed.
Mother turned to look out of the window. "It grew again so beautifully," she said. "The little oak Red planted for me that will one day be tall and noble, the lilac, the hearing herbs. The Sorceress could not destroy us. Together, we were too strong for her." She looked back at me. "The magic Page 21
is powerful in you, Liadan. And there is one more thing in your favor."
"What's that?" I asked. Her words were both fascinating and terrifying.
"He showed me once; Finbar. I came close to asking him what the future would hold for me. He showed me a moment of time. There was Niamh, dancing along a forest path with her hair like golden fire, a child with a gift for happiness. And Sean, running, running to catch up with her.
I saw my children and Red's. And—and there was another child. A child who was—shut out. On the
edge, so that I could never quite see. But that child was not you, Daughter. Of that I am certain.
Had it been you, I would have known the moment you were born and laid in my arms."
"But—but why wasn't I there? Sean and I are of an age. Why would I not be in your vision, too?"
"I saw the same vision earlier," said my mother slowly. "When I—but both times, you were not there.
Only that other child, closed off from the picture. I believe you are somehow outside the pattern, Liadan.
If this is so, it could give you great power, dangerous power. It could allow you to— change things. In these visions, it was not foretold that Sean's birth would bring forth a second child.
That sets you apart. I
have believed, for a long time, that the Fair Folk guide our steps. That they work their great plans through us. But you are not in their scheme. Perhaps you hold some sort of key."
It was too much to take in. Still, I could not but believe her, for my mother always told the truth, no more and no less.
"Then what about the third child in the vision?" I asked. "The child on the margin, in the shadows?"
"I cannot tell who that was. Only—it was a child who had given up all hope. That is a terrible thing. Why
I was shown this, there is no telling. In time, perhaps you will find out."
I shivered again. "I'm not sure that I want to."
Mother smiled and got up. "These things have a habit of finding you, whether you like it or not,"
she said.
"Conor was right. There's no point in feeling guilty or worrying about what may come. Put one foot before the other and follow your path. That's all we can do."
"Hmm." I glanced at her. It sounded as if my own particular path might be rather
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