Iron Soaked Sands
Thom froze, waiting for his bullet to find its mark. The air around him seemed to lose its freshness, In fact, everything seemed to become more dense, heavier, as if a thickness had descended and wrapped all in it. The red's head moved slowly to lock its gaze upon Thom. He could feel the contact but didn't spare the hound even a momentary flicker of awareness. He remained concentrated on the flow in front of him. Had he been wide of the mark? What could he possibly say to his Mairy to explain his bullet lodged in Conn's head? There would be no explanation that would ease her through a loss of that kind inflicted by his own hand. It would not matter that he had been trying to save him, only the end result would matter. And he would not lie to her. She would see through that all too quickly. Still he waited in the dense surround for an answer. All these thoughts pulsed through him, the gorge rising in his throat as the red spray finally rose from the pair.
His eyes were drawn away from the gore by the unbelievable sight taking place around Coll. The hound was splintering in front of him, shards of light splitting the grey hide in random shades of color. Splinters of crimson, indigo, amber and emerald broke the hound into an array of blinding colors which grew brighter with every breakpoint. When the color finally faded, the grey was gone. There was naught left but a dent in the foliage where he had stood. Thom tore his gaze back to the stag and Conn.
The red haze of the blood spatter hung in the air. Droplets of blood dispersed like a centralized cloud of supernatural rain, still too dense to see which animal had taken the hit. Both were still standing. The stag still turning to gore the hound, the hound moving in - teeth bared - lunging to the bare throat of the larger beast. He couldna' make out these facts for himself in truth, he could only surmise them from what he had seen before. From what he remembered before he had pulled the trigger and let loose the bullet. He shut his eyes briefly in a quick prayer that Conn would not be touched by his choice.
Opening them he was staggered. The streaks of light were beginning to blur the crimson rain and his eyes were filled with the same odd light that had taken Coll. It splintered and shifted, growing brighter as it had before, and then it seemed to falter and dim, growing weaker until the light appeared to withdraw. It looked like a fire suddenly quenched, leaving Conn exposed beneath the stag whose torso still shifted to tear at his chest. He started forward. Then the light flared again, stronger than before, bright enough that the color faded, leaving only white hot light and after it darkness. Thom's eyes took time to adjust to the absence of the light. What he saw left him cold and raw to the bone. Conn was gone. Vanished. All that was left was a smear of blood trailing along one antler of the now fallen stag. He should be happy, they would have plenty of meat, but he felt indescribably empty. No, what he truly felt was scrubbed clean from the inside out. Aye, that was it, and that would surely take some getting used to. He stood a few moments, bracing himself, then he forced himself to go through the pattern of gutting, cleaning and slicing the meat and hide, preparing it for the trek home. He was going to home to Mairy. He was going home, not empty handed to be sure, but empty in a way, that much was all too true.
Mairy sat back and watched Cait with her pups. She said a prayer under her breath. The bleeding had slowed with the stitching, but she couldna' be sure it it would hold. An' she had no way of knowin' if Cait was bleeding internally. She watched as Cait licked at the pups to clean them. They were unnaturally large and had passed into the world not as wee bits of pink flesh only sporting a bit of fur here and there like whiskers comin' in on a man's chin. No, these pups had a small coat on them. As Cait cleaned them of the birth film, their coats began to reveal themselves more fully. The first born and largest of the two was a soft blond. It made Mairy's heart turn to look at such a tiny replica of her Conn. Cait nudged him to suckle and turned to the younger. She seemed to take a bit more time cleaning the one that had almost cost her her life and might still, thought Mairy. This one, looking perhaps all of three weeks only rather than the full month like the other, was a grey, already showing the deep grey stripe down its back peculiar to its sire.
As Cait began to nudge him toward her teats, the she-hound suddenly swung her head up, her eyes in a whorl of pain. The pups forgotten, she tried to struggle to her feet, but her strength was gone. Crumpling to the ground, Cait let out a loud, whimpering keen of utter loss. It was perhaps the most singularly grievous sound Mairy had ever heard. It chilled her to the bone and made her heart rip a bit in her chest. She pulled a blanket out of the linens and wrapped it over the back of the shivering hound. Then she curled up behind her, lying on the floor, and stroked her, crooning softly. Even as the pups began to suckle again, Cait continued to shiver and whimper softly. Mairy stayed there on the floor holding the new mother, unwilling and perhaps unable to leave the suffering hound, though she wasna really certain what was ailing her so.
They gathered outside the cavern, Lin, Fiona and Roary, each in turn staring out into the sea. They seemed to be willing it to deliver the boys back to them. It seemed such a long time ago that Aiofe had tossed her bones into the waves and the two hounds had disappeared into the froth and the waves. They could think of nowhere else to be. Fiona stood holding the quilts she had brought with her. The packs at her feet which held her discarded clothes were markers of how ever thoughtful she truly was. More, they reflected how ever hopeful she remained. They were all of them wet, yet no one mentioned the cold or the wind nipping at them as they waited. Lin moved closer to Fiona, reaching out to grasp her mother's hand as the time dragged on. It seemed like they had been standing there forever, and yet no answer came from the waves. Fiona pressed her hand as if to say "Patience, dear, patience." They kept their collective gaze locked on the sea. Roary took a few steps forward. His impatience prodding him toward the waves, as if moving toward the water could force the sea to give up the treasure they sought.
The wind kicked up its heels and made a whistling roar around them, pressing the waves into a fine froth against the rock and sending the spray higher. The sound was almost deafening. Then Lin heard it. A high pitched howl. It sounded like an animal caught in a very nasty trap, its flesh ripping or bones snapping. It made her breath turn in on itself, actually made the bones in her ears ache with the pure pain of it. Fiona picked up on it too. She wrapped her arms around her daughter just as a massive wave broke the rocks and the howl turned to gut wrenching sobs which came from a curled form on the sand. It was Sean, lying naked and looking broken on the sand. Roary rushed forward and covered him in his overcoat. He helped him to stand as Lin and Fiona flew foward to embrace him. Sean turned into their embrace, hugging his mother and his nana and continuing to sob uncontrollably. Lin caught Roary's eye as he turned to stare at the sea once more. Where was Ian? They had gone in together. Why was Sean here alone? And why was he crying as if he had lost something he could never get back?
Sean looked at his mother, registering in her face that his brother had not yet returned. They turned as a group, Lin and Fiona still holding him, and stared at the sea. It had grown calm and even, as if it had determined to take a nap or fallen into a deep sleep. It did not appear roused at all by any need to disgorge an unnatural visitor. They moved a bit closer, pressing hard to each other, each thinking their own thoughts. all assuming the other was equally focused on Ian and his continued absence. The occasional tear still found its way slowly down Sean's cheek. Roary moved back up the strand on his way to join them. Sean broke from his mother and Nana and strode as if to meet him on his way. They passed each other on the way, Sean's gaze focused only on the sea. As he neared it, it began to rise. It frothed and curled in a menacing manner. Small breakers began to push madly to crash violently against the rocks. The sky darkened with every violent crash of the sea until the light was almost covered with an ominous dark pall of grey. Lin watched in horror as a large wave began to crest, forming in the sea and moving toward the strand. She stepped forward thinking to pull Sean away from the threat of the wave just as it cupped and spit violently, bringing itself just short of the shore but leaving its detritus there in a mangled heap. The spewed form came flying out of the spray large and gangly and furred. Fiona gasped loudly at the sight. But what lay on the wet sand and rock was another matter, it was a naked human form.
Sean rushed forward to him, taking the coat from his own shoulders and covering his brother. He leaned down to whisper something to him. Slowly Ian rose, using two hands to press himself to his knees, thrusting upward so he appeared to be standing on them. Sean helped him to his feet. He swayed precariusly, leaning into Sean for support and balance. Fiona ran forward, wrapping Sean in a quilt. Lin was directly behind her. They fell into a hug together, the four of them swaying. It felt wonderful to be together, to be whole. Lin glanced over at Roary and saw Sean reach out and beckon him into the group. This was followed by a wave from Fiona. He joined them hesitantly, but was absorbed readily into the circle, all pressed together with the thrill of being together again. Finally separating, tears on their cheeks, Roary moved off and returned with the boys' packs.
"I've a feelin' ye might be more comfortable in some of yer own things than that quilt and me coat, aye?"
The boys looked at him awkwardly. Finally he pulled out pants and thick sweaters for both and brought them over. "These might do ye well." He handed the clothing to them and suggested that the women might stand off a bit while the menfolk changed. It took a bit, but soon enough they were back together. Lin noticed that neither boy had said anything yet. She had mentioned this to Fiona, but her mother had simply suggested that she give it time. As they turned to walk toward the cottage Ian pulled a hand through his hair and Lin nearly fell to the sand. "Stop right there," she demanded. She reached out and pulled his hand to her. A deep gash ran the length of his knuckles just under them on the backside. The blood had thickened and set, but it looked clear that it needed stitches. It was not a small wound, that was certain. 'Why didn't you tell us you were hurt?" Ian just shrugged his shoulders. Fiona and Roary stepped over to inspect the wound. They both dug into their own packs and, combining elements from each, managed to clean and bind it well enough that Lin agreed to go to the cottage first rather than rush off to a hospital.
They walked toward the cottage. The five of them taking their time, the boys adjusting, the others simply feeling the wonder of the geasa lifted. Suddenly Lin was hit hard from behind. She tumbled to the ground and pressed to roll over, only to take another hit. Rolling over, she found both boys, eyes laughing, hovering over her. She rose just enough to wrap a leg over one and hook an arm around the other, shifting position to wrestle them to the sand, laughing. They rolled in the sand as if the boys were only six and eleven, playing from days long past, tickling and giggling, enjoying being alive and together. Finally, Sean simply said "Ma," in a gasp of pleasure. It felt like home, like the most perfect gift.
Fiona called to them, "Time to get clean, and dry and well fed. I need some time with my grandsons."
"You are more than welcome to join us, " she added, nodding to Roary.
"Aye, that sound's grand."
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