Sunshaker's War (21 page)

“I have not forgotten,” Lugh said. “But do not
you
forget that this is my land and that there are certain things I can do that Finvarra cannot, certain weapons I have at my disposal.”

“Finvarra knows too well of your weapons,” Macha snorted. “And he knows that both Arawn and the Lord of the Powersmiths have forbidden you to use the Horn of Annwyn.”

“Ah,” Lugh chuckled, “but does he know of
all
my weapons?”

“I doubt not that he does. He certainly knows of the flying ships.”

“All?”

“He knows that you have none that can best him.”

“Ah,” Lugh cried, his voice growing steadily stronger. “But I do not
need
to best Finvarra; at the moment, I only need to best
you
!”

“A boast, but in vain!”

“
Is
it?”

And with that he whipped off his cloak and stood revealed in scale armor as golden as the sun. He stepped to the top of the northmost merlon and spread his arms, and
only then did Macha notice the bundle he bore—a long, dark object wrapped in scarlet velvet.

A Word, and the golden binding-ties fell away, and Macha gasped in dismay. The tales were false, then; the Spear of Lugh had not been lost in the Second Battle of Mag Tuired.

And from his lofty perch, Lugh grinned and raised his arms, and the spear in them, and with that movement the clouds broke and sunlight streamed through and struck the spear, and at another Word, light poured forth from it.

Macha cringed, expecting to face flaming doom, but the flames did not touch her: They struck behind, to find purchase in the shattered woods. An instant only those broken forests steamed, and then burst into flame that quickly merged with the tentative fires already set there. And in that instant Macha knew her folly. Lugh had tricked her, lured her far inland, far from her sources of supply, with a whole forest at her back. And as the flames rose higher, Macha heard the screams of her forces trapped there, and those of her men who had suddenly found themselves cut off from any hope of returning home. And then she felt the fury of the sun burn down upon her and knew fear such as she had never known.

“You were speaking of surrender,” Lugh said mildly. “Any time you please, I will hear yours.”

“I am ready,” Macha gritted, as the man beside her became a raven. “I already send word to my master.”

“Is it peace, then?” Lugh demanded.

“Aye, for a time,” Macha conceded.

“Time is all that matters,” Lugh told her. “Go back to your master now. Tell him that what you have seen is but a shadow. Say to him that Midsummer's Day approaches and my Power waxes day by day as it draws nigh. Tell him that if I do not have Fionchadd safely in my keeping by midnight on Midsummer's Eve, with dawnlight I will lay waste his fleet; and if that does not suffice, at noon, when my power is at its greatest, I will set the Power of the Sun against Erenn itself.”

Macha nodded, her beautiful face pale as sorrow. “I will relay that word,” she whispered.

“See that you do,” Lugh replied, lowering the spear.

And then the image faded.

*

“Jeeze,” Calvin gasped. “Talk about good timing!”

“Yeah,” David exhaled his own relief. “We look in just as the war's concluded.”

“If it
is
,”
said Alec, standing and reaching for his jeans. “I don't think that's gonna be sufficient.”

“Why not?” David asked. “Lugh may need ships, but Finvarra needs men, and Tir-Nan-Og's stronger than Erenn, at least that's what Nuada once told me. What choice does Finvarra have?”

“He evidently still has Fionchadd, for one thing,” Alec observed. “He can still blackmail Lugh. 'Course that's apparently what he's already
been
doin'.”

“And there's a far worse thing,” Calvin added darkly.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. What he just did probably further stressed out the sun.”

“Oh, Christ, you're right!” David groaned. “I forgot about that. I guess I figured that Lugh's gonna take the battle to Finvarra now, so we'll be all right. But I forgot about what Uki said. We already know that usin' Power puts stress on the sun. And I'll bet you dollars to donuts that that deal with the spear just then was even worse. And think about this, guys: we're all assumin' Finvarra'll surrender, 'cause that's what we'd do. But suppose he doesn't? Shoot, he's immortal. His whole kingdom can go and he'll still be reborn. All of 'em will be, probably, though it might take 'em a spell.” He paused, giggled at his inadvertent joke. “But what may not make it is a World. Erenn might survive, our World too, but what about Galunlati? It's weaker than either, more tenuous.”

“What're you saying?” Alec asked slowly.

“What I'm sayin',” Calvin replied, “is that if Lugh uses that spear on Midsummer's Day, it could very well
destroy Galunlati. And if it goes…I don't wanta think about what might happen here.”

“Like, you got a worst-case scenario in mind?” Alec wondered.

“Maybe,” Calvin said. “I think—”

He got no further because a heavy knock suddenly shook the door.

As one, they started, neither of them having heard anyone open the front door, much less come up the stairs.

Alec had already opened his mouth to speak when a voice reached them from the landing outside. “Hey, come on, guys; it's me, Gary!”

“Christ,” David cried. And then suddenly realizing he was still in his skivvies, he grabbed for his pants.

Alec grabbed for the ulunsuti.

Calvin simply sat and waited.

And Gary turned the knob and walked in.

“I thought you locked it,” Calvin said to Alec.

“I thought
you
did,” came Alec's startled reply.

“Glad you didn't though,” Gary chortled. “Is this a séance or a circle-jerk?”

Chapter XI: Dark Days Ahead

“What does it
look
like we're doin'?” David replied archly, hoping to distract Gary so that Alec could finish secreting the ulunsuti.

Gary was too quick for him, though, and stared first at Alec, then straight at David. “I don't
know
,
Sullivan. What
does
it look like?”

Alec grimaced sourly, and David heard the soft thunk of the crystal striking the bottom of the protective jar the paranoid Mr. McLean had tried to conceal behind his back. He could tell Alec was about to say something really snotty and had just started to warn him when Calvin interrupted from where he'd been hidden between David and the door.

“G-man!” he bellowed happily, leaping to his feet. “Hey, guy—it's good to see you!”

Gary's eyes pirouetted back-and-forth in brief confusion, to be replaced an instant later by a twinkle of joyful recognition. “Tonto, my man! What're
you
doin' back there!” Then, as another sort of realization dawned on him, “Hey, that
your
bike outside? The G/S 80?”

“Sorta.” Calvin grinned, and David, who had finally found a chance to slip on his jeans, hoped he'd take the hint and direct the conversation that way—or any way except toward what they'd been discussing. It occurred to him that the bike was probably what had brought Gary inside in the first place.

“Oh wow!” Gary continued enthusiastically. “Those things won the Paris-to-Dakar half a dozen times! Sharp, man,
really
sharp!”

“Yeah, right,” Calvin affirmed, trying to sound modest, but beaming like a fool. “And thanks.” His eyes slid toward the blue-and-white BMW patch on Gary's coverall, and David realized, for the first time, that though it was Saturday afternoon, Gary was wearing Hudson Motors livery and had black grime under his nails. Not for the first time he considered the incongruity: a bright Atlanta-born boy who shared the MacTyrie gang's love of gaming and general weirdness, but at the same time didn't hesitate to get his hands dirty under the hood of a car. It all worked, actually, G-man had been planning to study automotive electronics at Georgia Tech before news of Tracy's pregnancy had made him reassess his future. He was
still
going—but had decided to attend MacTyrie Junior for a year before making the leap.

“It's what
I
do, too,” Gary said, in confirmation. “I—” He broke off suddenly and blinked at Calvin, who still had not put on his pants. “But hey, man, mama didn't raise but one fool and it ain't me. You guys're hidin' something, ain't you? Or do you
always
sit around in your drawers?”

David tried to look guileless, while Alec simply tried not to look at all, though he had managed to ease the ulunsuti back into the night stand.

“I repeat,” Gary went on, “you're obviously up to something, and I doubt this was a circle jerk—which leaves me with my other suggestion. So why don't you guys just level with me, or do I have to invoke the M-gang oath? There's no Ban of Lugh cookin' now, remember?

“David nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, well—you're right, we were kinda foolin' around with some stuff.”

“What
kinda
stuff?” Then, “Damn! You were playing with that magic rock Alec's got, weren't you? The one he won't ever let me look at.”

Alec's expression clouded, but David rolled his eyes and nodded again, while Calvin looked on, scowling.

“Well, jeeze, boys,” Gary went on. “Don't let
me
stop you. I mean just 'cause we're best friends and all…!”

“Cut it, G-man!”

“Cut
what,
Sullivan? What
I
want cut is about ten feet of crap.”

“He's right,” Calvin interrupted quickly, once more exchanging glances with David. “He's got a right to know.” He faced Gary. “You guessed it, man. We were messin' with the ulunsuti, tryin' to get it to prophesy. Alec's not had much experience with it, and I have, so we thought we'd try out its prophetic function. Thought we'd start on something easy, so we checked out next week's weather.”

David breathed a mental sigh of relief. That had been a close one. Calvin hadn't lied, but he hadn't told anything like all the truth either.

“And did it work?” Gary wondered suspiciously.

Calvin smiled cryptically. “We'll have to wait to find out, won't we?”

Gary shrugged and flopped down on the window seat, and David had to consciously repress a sigh. That meant G-man was prepared to stay for a while.

Gary turned his gaze toward Alec, looking very brighteyed and prim. “So, McLean, how 'bout cluein' me in on the procedure, then. Show
me
the future, and all?”

Alec stiffened. His lips were already shaping a
no
,
but David shook his head at him, hoping Gary wouldn't notice—and that Alec would take the hint.

He succeeded on both counts, but it made little difference because Gary suddenly stood up (narrowly missing the low ceiling in the dormer). “The weather!” he cried.” Shit! Hey, could you, like, show me the weather for the
wedding
?
That way I'll know how to plan!” His grin widened, and David knew he was on a roll now. “Oh, Christ, folks! Hey, could you show me the
whole thing
?
Kind of a sneak preview? It'd be a real trip to spy on your own wedding!” He turned and grinned at David. “That way we can be sure ole Darrell don't forget the ring.”

David could not help grinning back, but by then Gary had grabbed Alec by both shoulders and was shaking him energetically—something like a cross between an overly friendly beagle and Hulk Hogan. “So how 'bout it, Mach-One? Come on, get that ole' rock out and show yer buddy what's up. You can do that much, can't you? I mean, think of it as a wedding present or something.”

Alec looked mightily uncomfortable, but David and Calvin caught his eye over Gary's shoulder and signed consent. “Up to you,” David mouthed, where Gary couldn't see.

“Oh, crap, G-man,” Alec groaned at last, as he extracted himself from his brawny friend's clutches. “I reckon I owe you that much—but I can't guarantee anything.” He turned and began fumbling in the drawer.

A disturbing thought struck David, then; and he glanced down at his hands—and was relieved to see that the bloodstains were gone. Evidently the ulunsuti had absorbed every drop. He wondered what would happen if it contacted a really deep wound. Nothing, probably, since Alec had cut himself badly on a windshield wiper blade back in the fall and used the crystal immediately thereafter. But, he suspected, it was a thing better not tested too carelessly.