A relieved breath tore from my throat, but the reprieve was temporary as the men rounded for another strike. “I have to help him...” Or die trying.
Brigid’s fire rushed to my fingertips. I stepped forward, only to jerk to a sudden stop. Chilled flesh ran across my back and arms, and I coughed from the cape’s metal clasp that had been pulled tight to my throat. Twisting around, I saw Ailish holding onto a fistful of dark wool. “Let me go,” I rasped, “before Henry dies.”
She shook her head, her jaw set in a stubborn line. “Look at their faces, Selah. No blood’s to be spilled here today.”
I gaped at her. “Have you gone daft? They’re trying to kill each other!”
The swords connected again, and the earth shook as though thunder had crashed through the clearing. Ailish’s grip faltered as she stared at something over my shoulder. Dread coursed through me. I turned back toward the clearing, my pulse thumping in my ears. The scene unfolded before me, ripping a strangled scream from my throat.
Henry knelt in the grass, head bowed, his weapon useless at his side. The giant stood over him, sword raised high in the air. A proud smile played across his beautiful, unworldly face. Time stopped as the blade moved down, closer and closer to Henry’s neck. I stood frozen, unable to move, or even to breathe. A single thought circled like a vulture in my mind.
He’s dead... He’s dead... He’s dead...
My legs gave out and I collapsed to my knees. The sword tip reached Henry’s shoulder. Its weight rested against my neck, the sting of metal against my skin. Brigid’s fire faded from my hands as I waited for the blow that would kill us both.
Ailish crouched down beside me. An eternity passed. And then another, but no blood appeared. The giant raised the sword, and my mouth fell open when he brought it to Henry’s other shoulder without a trace of a wound.
The next thing I knew, the sword tip was lowered to the ground. “Cruthaionn do chuid fola fior.” The giant’s deep voice vibrated in my chest and the small hairs stood up across my nape.
Your blood proves true.
Henry raised his head, his green eyes blazing.
The giant extended a large hand to him. “Eirigi, mo mhae.”
Arise, my son.
Henry stood, hand gripped tight with the giant’s. The clearing glowed around them, and I stared, unblinking.
Ailish leaned closer to me. A shiver ran through my muscles, but I was already too numb from all that had happened to feel any chill. “Can you believe it?” she whispered. “Your lord be one o’ us, Selah.”
The truth of her words rang in my ears, for Henry looked as though his soul had caught fire.
Chapter Eighteen
One Truth Too Many
He is one of us...
The very idea beggared the mind. It made perfect sense, and no sense at all. Henry wasn’t entirely human. He was leath’dhia—part god, like me. I continued to stare at him as my world shifted to meet this new reality. A dozen heartbeats passed. Blood rushed through my veins, thawing the numbness. And then pure joy swelled in my chest.
Ailish tipped her head toward the man towering over him. “Who do you think he be?” she asked, in a whisper that did little to hide her own excitement.
I tore my eyes from the clearing to look at her. So far as I knew, Henry’s surname offered the only lead. “Do any of the Tuatha Dé go by a variation of Alan?”
Her expression turned thoughtful, but after a moment she shook her head. “None that comes to mind.”
A different name tugged at my thoughts—one I’d first heard during an unfortunate encounter with Henry’s father, the Duke of Norland.
“My grandmother’s family immigrated to England three generations before my Grandfather Fitzalan claimed her for his wife. Maybe you are familiar with the surname O’Lughnane?”
I inhaled sharply. “It can’t be!” But there was no other explanation.
“What is it?”
“O’Lughnane... Henry...he’s descended from Lugh.”
“You be certain?”
“I’m positive, which means that giant has to be...” I swallowed hard. “I think he’s the Celtic sun god.”
Ailish blinked at me, her shock matching my own. Then we each turned back to the clearing. But the other man, or god, had vanished. Henry was striding toward us, sword gripped in one hand. In the other he carried a wooden spear near equal to his height. Golden light glinted from the pointed metal head despite the thick clouds and darkening skies above.
“See the tip there,” Ailish said. “I’ll warrant it’s got the power of the Tuatha Dé in it.”
I looked closer, at the soft glow that seemed to emanate from the metal itself. How is that possible?