Disclaimer: The characters of the anime InuYasha are the property of Takahashi Rumiko/Shogakukan and Yomiuri TV Sunrise 2000. I do lay claim, however, to Aine and Lon.
A/N: Speaking of Aine and Lon... Another short glossary explaining Irish words, for those interested: mo chailín (mo khal-een) my girl or my lass; amadán (ah-ma-dan) fool; go raibh maith agat (gurra my' agat) thank you; mo chú (mo khoo) my hound; maidin mhaith (mah-jin why) good morning; oró (oh-ro) oh, oho.
Oh, and btw... lon and londubh both mean 'blackbird' in the Irish language. ;)
Chapter Four: A New Road
Londubh of the Púca Clan opened his eyes to darkness. For only a moment, he felt the disorientation that comes to those waking in a strange place. Then, as his vision rapidly adjusted to the scant light, he remembered where he was and softly chuckled to himself in delight. Stretching his arms over his head, he revelled in the feeling of lying on a surface which did not move. No more, he thought, would he have to endure the persistent rocking of the ocean.
He stretched again, and concluded that he had slept well. The mortals of this eastern land do make an excellent mattress, he thought. An expression of amusement then crossed his face. Though, I can't be saying the same for their 'pillows'. When he had retired for the night, he had taken one sceptical look at the little wooden headrest provided and had pushed it aside, choosing instead to use his rolled-up brat as a cushion for his head.
How grand it was, he thought, to sleep in a proper bed, especially when the experience had been preceded by a hot, relaxing bath. Lon now clasped his hands behind his head and decided he would continue to enjoy the comfortable floor mattress while he could. Aine would surely wake with the dawn, which he knew was at least an hour away – what point, he asked himself, would there be in stirring until then?
Lon and Aine had arrived in the Japans the previous afternoon. The ship which had carried them from Cathay had docked at a fairly large town in the south; though Lon had by this time seen many foreign ports, this one had held the special appeal of a journey's end. In fact, it had taken all of his resolve to keep from issuing a whoop of triumph as soon as the Japanese harbour had come into sight.
After bidding farewell to the ship's crew and entering the town, the Dé Dananns had sought, and found, a quiet place in order to perform a necessary task. In a sheltered corner near the wall of a small Buddhist temple, and under the guise of Lon solicitously adjusting the clasp of Aine's cloak, they had cast the invocation which would allow him to absorb the language of the land.
It had been Eadoin who had devised a method which enabled two who were not bards to employ a bardic spell. Lon had called it 'a trick of great ingenuity' and was very grateful to the bard since, otherwise, Aine would have had to constantly translate for him – a tedious process, from the independent púca's point of view. However, Eadoin had infused the essence of the language invocation into a small pendant of Aine's. Lon had only to touch the carved stone while Aine linked their life-forces together, and the spell was triggered. As long as the language of the land was one which Aine had already magically absorbed during her previous travels, it would pass from her to Lon.
Though it had not been the first time they had used the spell, Lon had still marvelled at suddenly understanding the exotic language of this far eastern country. His vocabulary was not as extensive as Aine's – and his accent was certainly more pronounced – but he was, for all intents and purposes, fluent.
Lon's language barrier having been sorted, the Dé Dananns had then set about locating an inn. Discreet inquires had soon led them to a modestly-priced establishment with a reputation for decent meals and clean beds. Later, as they had enjoyed a hot supper in the inn's common room, they had quietly discussed their plans. They had already decided that they would first seek the village which served as a home base for Sesshoumaru's half-brother, InuYasha. Aine knew that the community lay somewhere northeast of the region where she had last seen her anamchara – at least, she had surmised, it would be a fixed point from which to begin her search in earnest. And, she had added with a smile, it would be please her to see the half-demon and his companions again.
She had suggested that they leave in the morning, and Lon had readily concurred. The púca was keen to reach the open countryside beyond the trading port – and to change shape. He had been in the same form since they had left the Portuguese merchant colony of Bahrein in Arabia, and he was heartily bored with it – even if it was his 'true' body. However, the non-threatening form of a youth which he typically favoured would hardly have been suitable for escorting a lady on a long journey. Therefore, while 'trapped' among mortals at sea, Lon had had to be 'himself'.
Thus, it was a grown man who now reclined on the soft mattress and daydreamed of open roads and summer-green fields. No one would mistake this Londubh as the devil-may-care youth whom Eadoin had met near Dublin. A casual observer would, in fact, have been hard put to guess his age, other than to say, 'anywhere between thirty and fifty'. Though his hair was still thick and black, and his eyes still brilliantly blue, the fine lines accentuating his sharp features spoke of a life that had not been entirely carefree.
Thoughts of shape-shifting now caused the púca to feel restless – with the vagary of his kind, lying abed suddenly no longer held any attraction for him. Casting off his blankets, the slimly-built man sprang to his feet and, clad only in his soft-grey breeches, padded barefoot to the room's one window. Sliding open the papered panel, he looked out into the street below. The inn was not far from the edge of town, and his sharp hearing caught the first stirrings of early morning birdsong in the farmland beyond. It was, he thought, a very sweet sound, indeed.
A gentle breeze was blowing past the window, carrying with it the scent of the harbour – and of the sea. I turn my back on the salt water today, Lon thought, with a defiant grin that was reminiscent of his cheeky, younger self. As he leant against the window sill and rested his head upon his folded arms, a feeling of victory and pride embraced his spirit.
I did it...
He had endured the confinement of a sea voyage – not once, but many times, the last one involving three different ships and a time span of almost three months. And now, not only was he the first of his clan to set foot outside of Éire since the casting of the geis, but he had travelled literally to the other side of the world. He, the Londubh, had taken the druids' curse, and tossed it back in their faces. And, though he was well pleased to be clear of boats for the time being, he knew that he would never again so fear the ocean.
His expression grew serious, then. Not that he would ever claim it had been an easy task. In fact, he truly didn't know if he could have endured that first voyage if not for Aine. Lon's introduction to sea travel had been aboard an elegant elvish barque – an enchanted vessel which had cut through the rough waters of the North Atlantic with ease, the motion of the waves barely perceptible to its passengers. The púca, however, had felt invisible walls closing in upon him as the shores of Éire had vanished behind them...
'Lon, a stór...'
A voice broke into the turmoil of his mind. Lon forced himself to focus, seizing upon it like a lifeline. He stood near the barque's bow, watching the green land behind them grow ever smaller, his hands gripping the carved railing so tightly that his knuckles were bleached white.
Aine raised her hand and gently turned his face toward her. Sorrow gripped her heart when she saw how pale he was. His skin was cold and damp with perspiration, and his beautiful blue eyes were almost black, so dilated were their pupils in spite of the daylight.
'Ach... my dear friend,' she said. 'I'm so sorry. This is too unfair to you...'
'Don't... say it.' The words were a harsh whisper. Then, the púca closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, Aine saw that their glance was more focussed. A shaky smile briefly crossed his lips as Lon looked again toward the receding coastline.
'Don't be giving me the chance to return, mo chailín... for, I might just do it. And... I couldn't live... with that shame.'
The foxy-faced man bowed his head and inhaled deeply. No, no good, he thought desperately. It's still smothering me. Damn... I've got to remember how to breathe... Focus, amadán... Focus!
'The geis' time is well past, Aine,' said the púca. 'Only stubbornness and... their bloody, so-called principals... keeps the Council from lifting the curse.' He swallowed as he still struggled to calm his breathing. 'Smug druids... they knew. Ach, they knew. If... if they'd sealed us away... we'd have died... Couldn't have that... on their consciences.' He laughed shakily. 'So, instead... we got a long tether... and a way to break it... if we'd dare it...'
At this, the healer's hand clasped his shoulder. Aine kept silent, but her touch calmed him and he again met her concerned gaze. 'Don't look so, lass. It was... my choice to come. My choice alone,' whispered the older Dé Danann. He then raised a trembling hand and gently tucked a stray lock of her red-gold hair behind her ear. 'Sure, and 'tis no chore to be... in your company. And... 'tis also a chance... to show my clan that... we don't have to be tethered. I'll survive this confinement. If...' Here, he paused and took an even deeper breath. To his horror, it exhaled as a sob. No! I'll not break so...
'If... I could only... breathe. Lass...'
Aine heard the plea in his voice, and cupped his face with her hand. 'Let me link with you, a stór,' she murmured softly.
Gasping for air, he nodded. Aine raised her other hand, and gently touched the base of his throat. Tendrils of healing magic swirled into the púca's airways and eased the spasms in his chest. But, the healer knew this respite would be brief. Like many of the wild creatures whose forms he favoured, Lon was panicking from his perceived confinement. He would begin to hyperventilate again, and push himself into a true panic attack, unless she could calm him.
As his breathing became easier, Lon felt the healer take his arm. 'Teacht... come,my blackbird,' she whispered. Unprotesting, and too disorientated to care about the curious glances of the elves, he allowed her to lead him to the bow of the ship. There, she coaxed him to sit where the breeze from the ship's passage was the strongest.
'Close your eyes, a stór,' she said, her voice low and kind. 'Feel the wind upon your face.' Then, she sat beside him and, wrapping her arms about him, she held him close as she sang to him an old mortal lullaby. He knew the tune well... and its purpose. Aine was the only Dé Danann healer that could use music as a catalyst for healing spells of relaxation – proof that, though she herself was not a bard, their blood still ran in the her veins. The music now wrapped a blanket of calm and peace about them both. With a low moan, Lon sank into her embrace, letting her soft, alto voice work its magic.
Later, a very tired púca raised his head from the healer's shoulder. He met Aine's warm, green gaze, and read within it her concern for him. Flushing slightly, he released his hold on her and slowly sat up; Lon was as proud as any of his kind, and embarrassment had replaced his panic. The shape-shifter then leant forward to rest folded arms upon bent knees, averting his eyes from the woman beside him.
He started when he felt her hand slip under his thick mane of hair to rest softly on the back of his neck. Then, he sighed as a soothing warmth flowed from her fingertips into the knotted muscles beneath them. 'Go raibh maith agat, mo chailín,' he murmured. He suddenly gave her a shaky, sheepish smile. 'Life truly does move in circles. Once upon a time, 'twas I who sang such songs to you.'
Aine smiled kindly at him as she withdrew her hand. 'Aye. And, a fine voice you had, too.'
Lon snorted, a hint of his usual cheek in his voice. 'And, who says it still isn't...?'
At that moment, a shadow fell across the Dé Dananns. Both looked up to see the elven archer captain, Thalion, regarding them. Lon felt his face again growing warm. He knew the Light Elf had been informed of the geis for, having been entrusted with their safe passage to the elven realms, it had been the archer's right to know of how one passenger might react to sea travel. Still, now that the panic had passed, the púca felt almost sick with shame that he had shown weakness before strangers – especially such austere, self-assured beings as these elves.
'Aye, Captain Thalion?' asked the healer.
'We've entered the Channel,' said the elf. 'The mainland should be visible before sunset.' Then, his blue-green eyes turned to her companion. Lon's expression became defiant – he had decided he would tolerate a disparaging comment from the captain, but he would not endure his sympathy. Then, to his surprise, Thalion bowed respectfully to him.
'Well done,' said the elven archer. 'From now on, it will be easier.'
The startled púca could only nod his thanks.
Despite the elven captain's unexpected praise, Lon's ego still cringed in pain when he recalled that first voyage. The flush now creeping across his face had nothing to do with the rays of the rising sun which was peeking over the rooftops of the Japanese town. Still, the púca reflected, the elf had been right. Though the hair on the nape of his neck had risen each time he had boarded a ship afterwards, the panic had never seized him again.
Then, Lon's eyes gleamed as a shiver of anticipation moved through him. Before him lay a new land, full of magics and wonders. A rare find in this day and age, he mused. The sun's up, my Aine. Time to seek this 'dog demon'. Let the road rise to meet us, and the adventure truly begin.
In the adjacent room, similar thoughts were flitting through the mind of Aine, who had just awakened. Stretching briefly, she looked over her shoulder at the wall that separated her from the púca and grinned to herself. Already up and about, are you, a bhodach?
Aine knew that her friend stood near the outer wall of his chamber. Although Lon's aura of power was not particularly strong compared to those of most Dé Dananns, here, surrounded by mortals, its resonance called to her. As a healer, Aine's life-force was very sensitive to the living world about her. Though she had to be in physical contact with another to properly assess their well-being and to heal, she could detect inherently magical beings at a distance – and, the greater the aura of power, the more easily she could sense its owner.
She remembered the day that she and Eadoin had first set foot in Japan and how, on that same afternoon, she had felt two very strong life-energies, both completely alien to anything she had ever sensed before. One had belonged to Sesshoumaru, the other to his half-brother, InuYasha. Little had she known, then, how connected she would become to the stronger of those life-forces.
However, her healer's senses were detecting no distant demonic jaki today.
Ah, but that would be too convenient, wouldn't it, mo chú? Ach, all things happen in their own time... At least, Aine thought, she had returned to this mystical land well before summer's end. Had she already prevented the unidentified 'regret and sorrow' predicted by the druid, simply by being here? Or, was there a task yet waiting for her? The healer grimaced ruefully. Unfortunately, the stars were, as Elarinya had said, merely guides – and, very vague guides at best. However, knowing Daire's exceptional skill at reading the heavens, Aine would never have dared to ignore the portents he had seen.
Wrapping her brat like a shawl over the light, linen shift in which she had slept, she moved to the window and slid open its panel, letting the bright sunshine flood the room. Leaning out over the sill, she closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh breeze blowing from the sea.
'Maidin mhaith.'
She could not help laughing when she looked to her right to see Lon watching her, amusement evident in his expression. 'And, good morning to you, a stór,' she answered. 'I suppose you've been up for hours?'
'Only one,' he answered, with a shrug and a grin. 'I knew yourself would be rising with the sun – even as a child, you were never one to lie abed while the outside world called.'
Aine gave him a saucy wink in reply. 'Aye, and it's calling loud and clear. Shall we see about some breakfast?'
''Tis going to be a fine day, so,' observed Lon, as he scanned the morning sky. 'We'll not be needing these cloaks.'
Aine did not doubt him. A púca was as sensitive to the weather as the birds whose forms he mimicked, and she knew from experience that Londubh's forecasts were seldom in error. Already, the summer sun was warm, and the healer would be glad to remove her brat. For now, however, the red-haired woman chose to keep her head covered as they walked along the dirt roadway. It had still been quite early when they had set out – occasionally, a cart loaded with produce for sale in the town had passed them, and they had drawn some curious glances. Being near a trading port, most of the locals had seen foreigners at one time or another, but, as Aine had learnt during her earlier visit, a European woman was still a very rare sight in this land.
Both had looked forward to 'properly stretching their legs' – for almost three months, the only access they had had to land was when they had transferred from one carrack to another at a Portuguese trading colony. As Lon had said, the day was fine, and their packs were light. Though Aine also carried her healer's satchel, she was well accustomed to its weight. As for Lon, he had little need for luggage, and had therefore insisted on carrying the one 'surplus' item Aine had brought with her, cheerfully asserting that the odd-shaped bundle which contained her harp was no weight at all.
Though Aine was not a bard, she did share her cousin's love of music. While her own harp would have been unnecessary baggage while she had travelled with Eadoin, she had been determined to have this special 'piece of home' with her on this journey. In addition, since she and Lon had explained themselves to the Portugese merchants as travelling entertainers, the harp's presence had only added to their authenticity as such, and they had been accepted as eccentric, but harmless, paying passengers. When anyone had questioned their purpose more closely, Lon, like Eadoin before him, had easily managed to assuage their curiosity, although his technique had differed from the bard's. Eadoin had had a bard's skill in persuasion; the púca, on the other hand, was (as he so aptly put it himself), 'a consummate liar'... and an old hand at duping mortals.
Once the Dé Dananns left the outskirts of the port town, they met fewer people. As the road took them through a broad expanse of farmland and rice paddies, the púca studied the countryside with a keen interest, remarking on the unusual wildflowers growing by the roadside, or the unknown call of a bird, with an almost child-like enthusiasm.
However, he was not so distracted as he appeared. As the two rounded a bend in the road, and moved out of sight of the last farmhouse, Lon shot Aine a sharp glance.
'They're still trying to be inconspicuous.'
The healer nodded. 'Aye, and still keeping well back,' she replied.
Lon had noticed the three men as soon as they had begun to follow them at the edge of town. It soon became apparent that they planned to follow the Dé Dananns at a distance – no doubt, being foreign and new to the area, they had been considered easy targets for robbery. The 'fair folk' had decided to let the would-be bandits continue to think they were unaware of them, for neither wanted to use Power within sight of an audience. Now that a stand of trees had hid them from view, however, they knew that the men would be hurrying to catch up with them.
'I could show them the error of their ways...' said Lon with a mischievous grin.
'And begin rumours of foreign demons, so?' Aine answered. The expression on her face left Lon in no doubt that he would not get to 'play' that day.
'Sure, and you're a hard woman, Aine Ní Airmed – denying a lad a bit of harmless sport,' returned the púca, with an exaggerated sigh of resignation. 'Well,' he said, 'at least this is a better road than that 'caravan route' that took us to Bahrein.' Lon passed his cloak and baggage to his companion; then, he stretched his arms, causing Aine to wince inwardly as he cracked his shoulder joints in the process.
Uttering a low, gleeful laugh, the púca suddenly threw back his head and spread his arms wide. Aine could see the soft, golden glow of the Dé Danann aura which suffused his form; her eyes grew bright, however, as she beheld the look of sheer joy on her old friend's face.
Lon was euphoric. Even though the shape-shifter's transformation was almost instantaneous, time seemed to slow for him as he exulted in the sensation of his body flowing into a new form. Finally... he thought, as he bent forward, his hands reaching for the ground before him.
The aura of power subsided. The man had vanished, and in his place stood a sturdy, black horse. The púca tossed his head as Aine picked up their packs, now tied together, and draped them over his withers. Powerful muscles bunched and quivered under a glossy black coat as Lon shifted his weight to his hindquarters, eager for the run to come. He tossed his head again, then curved his neck to look back at the healer.
'Up with you, my girl,' he said, his voice unaffected by the change he had undergone. He chuckled. 'Those mortals are about to question their sanity.'
Aine grinned as she looked into the brilliant blue eye which peeked out at her from beneath a long, thick forelock. Then, she lightly hefted herself onto the púca's back and quickly made certain their packs were secure in front of her. 'Mind you don't overexert yourself, a bhodach,' she said in teasing tone, as she took a firm grip on his long mane.
Lon emitted a very equine snort. 'Don't be cute,' he answered. Then, he sprang forward.
Only moments later, the bandits came tearing around the clump of trees. The leader of the three thugs gave a triumphant cry as he raised his make-shift club to strike. His voice died in his throat, however, as he and his partners in crime stood and stared in angry puzzlement at the remnants of a dust cloud... and an empty stretch of road.
Five days after their arrival in the Japans, the Dé Dananns found themselves many leagues northeast of the port town. Lon, still bursting with restless energy, had been more than willing to continue to carry Aine across country at speed, even after their pursuers were well behind them. However, Aine had convinced him to exercise his usual prudence and confine his 'wild rides' to the nighttime. There was no point, she had said firmly, in terrifying chance-met travellers. And, she had added, after being at sea for so long, she welcomed a chance to use her own legs from time to time. The púca's spirit had hardly been dampened by this precaution since, much of the time, they were alone on the road, and he was free to change shape on a whim.
At the moment, Lon had become his namesake and had taken to the air. Shortly after they had broken camp, the travellers had come to a fork in the road, and before they chose their direction, the púca had wanted a glimpse of what lay beyond the forested foothills ahead.
Though the weather was again sunny and warm, it was cool within the grove of bamboo where, on a smooth boulder, Aine sat waiting for Lon to return. So far, she reflected (with some relief), their journey had been uneventful. Occasionally, she had sensed distant life-forces which she knew must have belonged to yokai of some sort. However, none of those jaki had been as strong as that of her anamchara.
That, she knew, was one signature of power she would never mistake.
So far, they had skirted towns and villages. Aine knew that Europeans were virtually unknown beyond the southern ports – better, she had decided, to keep to themselves for the time being. She had not wished to have too much attention drawn to Lon or herself. Plus, she had felt it wise to let a certain overly-energetic púca burn the restlessness out of his system before interacting further with mortals.
Now, however, they had passed the region where she and Eadoin had parted from Kagome, InuYasha and their friends. She knew that the village that those young people called home was somewhere further to the northeast. Soon, we'll have to ask directions... This train of thought was interrupted as she sensed a familiar life-force above her.
'Oró, my red-haired beauty / Oró, my lily fair...' sang the blackbird in a clear, tenor voice, as he fluttered down to land lightly on her shoulder.
'Flatterer,' said a smiling Aine. 'What did you find?'
The bird hopped down to perch on the boulder beside her. Its form glowed briefly; then, a familiar, slim youth was sitting in its place. The expression in Lon's slightly slanted eyes was serious as he related what he had seen. 'One road goes to a fair-sized town... but, by the looks of it, we'd be after sharing it with many soldiers. Eadoin wasn't joking when he said this land was full of conflict.' The púca grimaced at the thought of mortals and their battles – the reasons behind them had long ceased to make any sense to him.
'Soldiers, I can do without, a stór,' answered Aine. 'So, the other road...?'
''Tis no more than a cart track into the foothills of yon mountains, but it goes in the right direction. And, the way is clear.' He winked at her. 'Would my favourite passenger be caring for a wee jaunt?'
The healer chuckled at hearing the old, familiar question, and at the gleam in her friend's eye. Lon's 'wee jaunts' were the reason she had been an accomplished horsewoman since childhood. Even a sídhe-bred horse was a tame mount to one accustomed to a púca's swift gait.
'Let's go, my blackbird.'
'Danú... what in hell did this?' said Lon.
Some time later, the Dé Dananns stood staring with consternation at the broad swath of broken brush which led down and away from the hillside road. Aine had dismounted to get a closer look at the damage; then, she reached out with her healer's senses, but she detected no unusual life-forces nearby. Sighing with relief, she shook her head. 'I feel nothing, Lon.'
The black horse's nostrils flared as he lowered his head to the ground. When he caught the scent that clung to the flattened plants, he snorted and reared back.
'What is it?' asked the healer.
'Something damned queer. I'm needing a better nose.' With this observation, the púca's form shifted. While still sniffing intently at the ground, the soft muzzle of a horse became the shiny black nose of a large, rough-coated dog. The black wolfhound suddenly sneezed loudly.
'Phaugh! What a stench!' exclaimed the púca. ''Tis like someone's burnt well-rotted meat.' Lon's form changed again, and the black-haired youth stood beside the woman, the expression on his face conveying his disgust. He looked up to meet the healer's concerned gaze. 'Whatever it was, lass, the trail isn't fresh.'
'Nevertheless, a stór, perhaps you should keep that form for the time being. Sesshoumaru is able to detect minor bardic and healing spells at a considerable distance. He may not be the only one in this land blessed with such acuity.' She gestured to the trail that vanished down the forested slope. 'Perhaps, the creature that left this trail...'
The púca nodded, understanding. 'Right enough, lass. I think it's long gone, but, indeed, why give it an incentive to return?' Then, he again shouldered her harp. 'Teacht. Let's be away from here.'
As they continued side by side along the winding road, Lon was unusually silent. The healer knew the púca was pondering what sort of creature could have left such a rank trail, and that, from the protective glances he was throwing her way, he was on alert. Though she and Eadoin had told him all they knew of the land, and the strange creatures that inhabited it, their knowledge had been limited to the little they had learnt during their own brief visit. Lon, she knew, was no more fond of puzzles than she herself was.
It was afternoon by the time the púca began to relax. They were well into the foothills – the unknown beast's trail was several miles behind them, and there had been no further sign of it. They were discussing when they should stop to make camp when the road suddenly opened into a clearing. There, in the shelter of a rocky overhang, was the smoking remains of a campfire.
'I thought I smelt wood smoke,' murmured Londubh, as he knelt to peer at the coals. 'This was hastily put out, lass.' Then he froze. His blue eyes became glacial as he stared at the far side of the space beneath the overhang. The dark, narrow hole in the rocky hillside could only be a cave, and the púca was sure he had heard something, or somebody, move within it.
He considered changing shape, then decided against it as he heard the sound again. He was now fairly certain of its cause, and suspected that his current form was the most appropriate for dealing with what lay within the crevice. Still, he thought, best to be cautious.
Pushing back his brat, he reached for the slender dagger sheathed at his waist. Keeping one hand on the haft of the small blade, he looked back at Aine and put a finger to his lips. Be ready to ward, he mouthed to her.
The healer nodded, willing to follow his lead. The púca, Aine knew, was possessed of survival instincts honed by a lifetime far longer than her own. She trusted her old friend's judgement.
Londubh moved cautiously toward his target, his body tensed to move swiftly in case of an attack. He met no resistence at the cave's entrance. Still on guard, he stepped within... and looked down into the frightened eyes of a child. I thought so...
'Please... don't hurt us,' came a gasping whisper from the back of the shallow cave. As Lon looked upon the source of that sound, his own eyes widened with alarm. Danú... I don't believe it.
He was about to call out to Aine when, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement to his left. 'Damnú air!' he swore through clenched teeth, as a heavy staff swung toward his midriff.
A/N: Damnú air (dam-noo air), as you might have guessed, means, 'Damn it!'
Next: Kirara and Shippo.
