Brendan’s first instinct was to panic. He wanted to thrash and scream, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even open his mouth to make a sound because the stone had sealed around him like the plastic wrap his mother used to vacuum-seal leftovers.
The darkness was complete. He was physically trapped. The only part of him that could move was his mind. He had to get his thoughts under control, quash the animal terror at being buried alive, and find a way out of his tomb.
Think! Think! Think! This is the test. You have to figure it out or you’re finished!
He pushed aside the urgency that was building in his lungs as the breath he’d taken was leached of oxygen. Merddyn wouldn’t have done this to him if he couldn’t survive. There had to be a way.
He tried to remember their conversation in the doughnut shop.
“The universe is full of energy. It’s alive with it,” Merddyn had said. “We could tap into it readily and manipulate it to do anything we wished.”
Energy? Brendan’s mind grasped at that straw. It seemed to be important. Is that it? Everything is energy. Every leaf and flower. Water and air? Stone?
Brendan was really in need of a breath now. He had no idea how long he’d been encased in the stone. It could have been a second or a minute. He had to figure it out.
Calm. Calm. Think… The stone. His mind snagged on the memory of the Snoring Rock. If a rock could speak, could he speak to a rock?
Worth a try. I haven’t got any other options.
He focused his mind and shouted. Hey!
Nothing.
Hey! Hey! In his mind, he was screaming.
His lungs were burning now. He was seeing spots of colour in his eyes, though no light could exist in the centre of a solid rock. He knew he was failing.
Hey!
Something stirred. A heavy, leaden presence blearily prodded the edge of his mind.
Mmmmmm?
Brendan’s heart skipped. Was he actually talking to a rock?
I’m stuck in here, he thought as loudly as he could. I need to get out!
There was no response save for a grinding rumble. If anything, the grip of the stone tightened. Brendan’s ribs creaked. The threat of suffocation was compounded by the possibility of being physically crushed.
Now that he had the rock’s attention, he was finding it hard to concentrate. The claustrophobia threatened to shred his will. The cold weight of the stone all around him was overwhelming.
You’re crushing me! I need you to let me out!
Once again, there was no response, no words in his head, but he thought he sensed interest, the ponderous thought process of an infinitely slow and patient mind considering what he was saying. He imagined the mind of the stone, sitting for centuries in one place with only a dim awareness of the passage of time. Such a mind would take a long time to stir. Brendan had to waken the rock somehow.
His eyes were open within the stone but there was nothing to see. Coloured spots began to swim in his vision. He was being asphyxiated. He caught himself slipping into unconsciousness and willed himself to stay awake, to stay focused. Brendan thought about Merddyn and their conversation in the doughnut shop. All things are connected. No. Not just connected, they are one. An image blossomed in his brain: a doughnut shifting its shape, becoming a pebble, becoming feathers, becoming a flame.
He mustered his last shred of energy and refocused on the stone. He forced his thoughts to reach out and see it. The rough hardness of the rock filled his mind. He willed himself deeper, like flipping a magnifying lens in front of his thoughts, and saw the minute structures that made up the stone, the glittering crystals stacked and linked. He pushed deeper and saw the structure within those crystals, infinitely tiny bits of matter vibrating slowly as they hung in space, a universe of atoms. Brendan saw what he must do.
What is happening? The rock’s voice suddenly filled his head like an avalanche, almost shattering his concentration.
Don’t be afraid. Brendan sent the thought laden with soothing emotion. I must do this to continue in my existence. You will not be harmed.
It is… strange.
Satisfied that the stone wouldn’t interfere, Brendan returned to his task. He saw the tiny particles of matter dangling in space. With a finger of thought, he reached out and tapped one. That particle collided with the next, and the next. A cascade of tiny collisions rippled out from a single atom, a wave of movement that changed the state of the stone.
This is disturbing, the stone’s voice quavered. I fear it.
Brendan, on the other hand, was no longer afraid. The stone’s grip was loosening. He pushed against the stone and it gave way before him.
What is happening? The stone’s panic was evident in Brendan’s mind. I don’t like it.
Be calm, Brendan found himself saying. All things change and all things stay the same, for all things are one. He didn’t know where that thought came from but it felt right.
The stone flowed around him like dense syrup, clinging to his limbs. He leaned into the resistance and forged ahead. Presently, a dim, golden light grew in his path. He pushed harder, throwing himself against his prison. Abruptly, all resistance was gone. He was falling forward onto his hands and knees in the cold mud of the Faerground.
His lungs heaved in air in great gasps. His ears were roaring. Gone was the peace he’d felt locked within the stone. Grey stone dust showered from his hair and clothing. He felt completely drained. Unable to hold himself up anymore, he fell onto his face in the mud.
He must have fainted for an instant because he opened his eyes and someone was cradling his head. A girl was speaking to him.
“Brendan? Can you hear me? Brendan?”
He couldn’t focus on her face. “Charlie?”
His vision cleared and he saw it wasn’t Charlie but Kim, her face full of concern and a little hurt.
“It’s only me,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” Brendan said, looking up into her brown eyes. “I’m glad it’s you.”
Kim smiled her crooked smile. A shadow fell across them. Brendan looked up and saw the wrinkled, kindly face of Merddyn. The old Faerie raised his bushy eyebrows and gave a nod. “I am satisfied.”
Brendan sat up as Ariel mounted the platform and cried, “It is Proven. Brendan is one of us! He must be assigned to a Clan.”
The crowd erupted into hoots and cheers.
Kim helped Brendan to his feet. He was still feeling a little woozy. Suddenly, Og was there, crushing him in a bear hug.
“Och, didn’t I just know ye’d do it? Didn’t I just?”
“Og, you big lummox. Let him breathe.” Deirdre smiled and kissed Brendan’s cheek. “Well done.”
Greenleaf was at her side, smiling placidly. “See? No need to worry at all. Very impressive! I see you managed to alter the stone. So many Talents.”
Brendan suddenly remembered the rock, the fear in its voice. He reached out and laid a hand on the cold, wet surface. Closing his eyes, he thought, Forgive me. I didn’t mean to scare you.
There was no answer. He only felt vague contentment from the stone and took that as acknowledgment of his apology.
“A drink! A drink is required!” Og shouted. “Follow me!”
Deirdre rolled her eyes. “What a surprise.”
Even in the midst of the festivities, Brendan was troubled. Where was Charlie? He scanned the crowd for her, searching for a swatch of black in the riot of colour. He’d given up finding her when he spotted Pukh standing in one of the alleyways between the tents at the far side of the Faerground. He was speaking with someone, his expression tense and a little angry. Brendan followed Pukh’s gaze and saw that he was speaking to Charlie. She had her hood pulled up, obscuring her face, but he was certain it was her.
What’s she doing talking to him?
As Brendan watched, Charlie shook her head vigorously at something Pukh said. Pukh’s face darkened. He grabbed Charlie’s arm roughly and pulled her into the alleyway out of sight.
Brendan wanted to investigate but the crowd swept him on into the open doors of the Swan. He wondered what Charlie was doing talking to the Lord of Tir na nOg and what she’d said that made him angry. He had to hope that she could take care of herself.
BLT flew in rapid spirals around Brendan’s head. “You did it! You did it! You did it!”
“Have you been eating sugar?”
“So suspicious! Can’t a person just be happy?” BLT cried. She beelined ahead and into the open door of the Swan. Brendan laughed.
The Swan of Liir was absolutely rammed. A DJ, accompanied by a clutch of more traditional musicians, had set up on the upper gallery. The centre of the room was a heavy mass of dancers gyrating to the music. Og forged a path through the patrons to a corner of the bar.
“Ye’ll have a drink, Brendan?” Og ventured.
“Diet cola,” Brendan laughed.
Og shook his head in disgust. “It’ll kill ya, that stuff.”
Saskia was a blur behind the bar, serving drinks at a breakneck pace. When she spied Brendan she stopped and smiled wolfishly. “I heard about the handstand. Well done!”
“He was magnificent, I tell you.” Leonard’s deep bass rolled over them. He was helping Saskia behind the bar, pulling pints of beer and grinning with his gold teeth all the while.
Kim was silent, standing with her back to the bar and her arms crossed. She sensed Brendan’s gaze and gave him a little half smile.
“You were amazing,” she said, barely audible over the din of the crowd. “Everybody’s talking about you.”
Brendan nodded. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Thanks.”
“For what?” Kim asked.
“For the Dawn Flight. For showing me that there’s a good side to all this weird stuff. For being here.” He took her hand and squeezed it.
Kim blushed and shrugged, saying gruffly, “Yeah, well. That’s cool.”
Brendan looked into her brown eyes and smiled. Here in the middle of this hurricane of Faerie insanity, he was at peace.
Suddenly there was a cry from the doorway. The music staggered to a stop as Lugh pushed his way into the pub, scattering the dancers and opening a circle in their midst. He dragged two figures, one in each huge hand, and threw them to the ground. Close on his heels came little Maya, giggling like a demented child, pushing a boy in front of her.
“Look what we found,” she crowed.
“Interlopers,” Lugh growled. “They were trespassing on the Gathering.”
A fierce cry rose from the Faeries. Brendan was off his stool in a flash and pushing through the crowd, Kim hot on his heels.
Brendan’s stomach dropped away when he saw who knelt on the floor at Lugh’s feet. Harold, Dmitri, and Chester Dallaire blinked in terror at the sea of hostile faces. Their hands were tied behind their backs, but otherwise they seemed to be all right.
“What are you doing here?” Kim demanded before Brendan could find any words.
“We were worried about Brendan,” Dmitri answered.
“You are in mucho trouble, you idiots,” Kim groaned.
“We all know the penalty for trespassing on the Gathering.” Pukh’s clear voice brought a hushed silence to the room.
“Oh brother,” Kim moaned softly. “Here it comes.”
“People of the Moon!” Pukh cried theatrically. He stepped into the circle with his henchmen and addressed the crowd. “The Pact is clear. Our Gatherings are sacrosanct. Intruders are punished. Humans are not welcome here.”
“These three meant no harm.” Brendan stepped into the ring and faced Pukh.
“Three?” Pukh said with an ingenuous look of surprise. “You are mistaken. There are four prisoners.” This last he called over his shoulder.
Lugh pushed through the crowd and returned, dragging a reluctant Delia by the elbow. His sister had been bound and gagged. She struggled like a wildcat, but the tall Faerie’s grip was firm.
Brendan’s face was a picture of shock and dismay. Lugh pushed Delia to the ground and took a place beside Pukh, his cold eyes glittering in the firelight.
“We all know the penalty,” Pukh said with a savage smile. “They must die.”