The man before me was so beautiful, and he watched me with such a captivating look in his eyes. I glanced down at the hand restraining me, and I snarled in frustration.
Who is this boy who restrains me? I must go to the other—the one who is so beautiful—he needs me.
The boy tightened his hold on my arm, and I struggled wildly against him, like a feral cat caught in a net.
“Be still!” the boy shouted, but I only struggled all the harder.
The beautiful man beckoned me again, and the hateful one shoved me behind him, his big body blocking my view. He backed us into the rock until the stone was pressed against my spine, trapping me.
“Ciara, my dark-haired beauty,” the beautiful man said, and I struggled ever harder, the stone painful against my back. I pushed against the hateful one with everything I had, but still, he would not move.
The beautiful man reached out to me, and all at once, the fog in my mind deepened. Everything else disappeared—the rock at my back, the hateful one, the horse as black as pitch. All but the beautiful man and the river before me.
Why do you hide behind your enemy, Ciara? His hypnotic voice reverberated through my mind. He is a plague, just like the giants from his land who will soon turn our world to ash, yet you follow him willingly. You have betrayed your family.
Disgust sat in my stomach, dark and oily. I thought of the many Northmen I had battled; men who had killed my clansmen and sister. Men who had pillaged and burned monasteries. And I had turned away from my clan and joined them.
In my mind, my sisters appeared before me, pale and shaken. Why did you leave us, Ciara? Bran asked. Tears tracked down Deirdre’s face. Behind them, my mother appeared. I always knew you would betray us in the end, she said.
Deirdre reached out her hand, and I tried to take it.
“No!” a deep voice shouted, penetrating the fog.
For a moment, I could almost think clearly, and then the beautiful man spoke again. The Northman lies, Ciara. He has led you astray. He is in league with the giants. You must destroy him and escape. Only I can help you now.
A black anger boiled up from within me, filling my body with an inhuman strength. I exploded past Leif and grabbed my sword.
Before me, Leif’s face seemed to flicker and change, his features becoming more dragon-like. Distantly, I wondered if my mind had finally broken.
Kill him, the melodic voice said. See how he is revealing his true form? The Northmen are nothing more than dragons who pillage and burn.
I raised my sword. My arm shook as I fought against the force holding my mind captive. There was a reason I shouldn’t attack this particular Northman . . . what was it?
The Northman would like nothing more than to murder your sisters, the voice said, more insistent this time.
A wave of burning anger crashed down upon me, but still I fought it. There was something about those words . . . something that rang false. It wasn’t the Northman who would kill my sisters. . . .
My sisters . . . their faces flickered into my mind. Branna, her jaw set and determined. Deirdre, her eyes soft and sweet. Alana . . .
The power that gripped my mind tried to strengthen its hold, and in that moment, I regained enough control of myself to know one thing:
I had to fight back.
Intense pain shot through my head as though a sword had smashed my skull, but still I pushed against the outside mind. It was the opposite of what I did to control another’s mind: I thrust the each-uisce’s power away instead of reaching toward it. He held on tenaciously, like a wild cat scrabbling for purchase on its prey, but I proved stronger. With one more powerful push with my mind, the each-uisce stumbled back and fell, as though I had physically pushed him.
The fogginess that had permeated my mind dissipated as though a strong wind had blown it away. The each-uisce tried to stand again. Before he could, Leif brought my sword down in a sweeping arc. It cleaved the each-uisce from shoulder to hip, dividing his body. Both sides crumpled to the ground, dark blood pouring out in the weak dawn light.
I met Leif’s gaze, and we both panted for breath. Gone was any indication that he was anything less than human. The each-uisce had preyed upon my deepest fears—even the nightmares that Northmen were dragons wearing human skin.
Leif shook his head. “I thought I had lost you.”
Breathing hard, I stared at the dead each-uisce at our feet. One less demon to threaten the children of éirinn. How shameful that I fell victim to its spell, when even the child in the story I told my sisters had not. I couldn’t help but shudder, though, as I realized that everything I’d felt in the grip of the each-uisce’s mind control must be exactly what my victims experienced. Victims who included many of my clansmen.
“Thank you for helping me,” I said to Leif.
“You saved yourself.” He handed my sword back to me. With the sun rising behind us, he rubbed the back of his neck before saying abruptly, “I will hunt us something to break our fast, and then we should continue to Dyflin.”
He strode away without waiting for my response, and I let the sword slip from my hand. I was glad for Leif’s absence, for I was shaking violently. Being trapped in the each-uisce’s mind control had made me realize just how terrifying my abilities were.
The each-uisce was malevolent and powerful, but still, I understood it.
Worse still was the realization that while the battle with the each-uisce had been a struggle, it was nothing compared to what we would face with the j?tnar.
8
With an afternoon sun intermittently hidden by clouds, we rode through a field of wheat, headed south toward Dubhlinn. The wind made the field seem like a golden sea as it blew the grasses like waves. I held out my hand as we passed, allowing the grain to brush against my palm. The wind was strong today; it tugged at my hair like a child before throwing it back in my face. Sleipnir’s mane, too, billowed back onto my arms.
The farther we traveled through Mide, and the farther we traveled from my home, the more depressed my mood became. My father would have made the proclamation of my exile official by now. He would have forbidden anyone from seeking me out, though only Fergus would think of doing so. It wouldn’t be the first time áthair had forbidden others from following me, only this time, he didn’t need to.
I had been younger than Branna then, and it was my second battle. My power was so new to me that I was barely able to understand it, much less able to successfully control it. When my father received word that Northmen were raiding along our northern coast, he took a small contingent of twenty men, including me, to stop them. When we finally reached the village, we were greeted by the dying screams of the people there. Most of them had gathered in the church for safety, but the Northmen had set it on fire to burn them out. They wanted the treasures contained within: the golden tabernacle, the chalice of silver and gemstones, pieces of silver and gold to honor God.
Two women were dragged out in chains, and seeing them plead with two merciless Northmen, their faces twisted with terror, unleashed something within me. Remnants of my own painful grief over my sister’s death and rage over what was happening to the women before me broke over me like a wave upon the shore. I reached out and took control of the Northman who held the women’s chains. I forced him to turn his weapon on himself, slitting his own throat with the edge of his axe. As soon as his blood flowed, I released his mind, delighting in the sheer panic I saw on his face.
Slack-jawed, the other man had watched his comrade kill himself. I reached out and took control of him, too, but instead of having him immediately take his own life, I forced him to slaughter the majority of his unsuspecting friends. Each man reacted in the same way: complete shock and disbelief that one of their own should turn on them.