Back Seer of Sevenwaters
Chapters (19)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. ~Sibeal~
  6. ~Felix~
  7. ~Felix~
  8. ~Felix~
  9. ~Sibeal~
  10. ~Felix~
  11. ~Sibeal~
  12. ~Sibeal~
  13. ~Sibeal~
  14. ~Felix~
  15. ~Felix~
  16. ~Sibeal~
  17. ~Sibeal~
  18. ~Sibeal~
  19. ~Sibeal~

I do not think I will sleep tonight. Oh, Sibeal, I wish you would come through that doorway, come and sit here by me. I wish you were close with your sweet clear voice and your eyes full of far-away things. Help me to remember, Sibeal. Help me. All I know is that I have a task, a mission, and time is running all too swiftly. I must remember before it is too late. Vanquish demons . . . Confront the Ankou . . . Be a hero, as Gull and his Liadan were in their own tale . . . hah! What manner of hero is this, who for so long could not bring himself to speak aloud? Deiz, little dog, you show more courage than I, with your bold forays up and down my pallet and your warning growls. Yet here you are, no bigger than a squirrel.

The night seems long. There is a deep quiet, broken by the occasional cry of a sea bird passing overhead, and the sleepy bleating of sheep. Gull gets up and goes out. He comes back; stands by my bedside yawning.

“Awake, Ardal? I’ll get you some water.” The candle set carefully down on the stool by my bed; the cup lifted between his palms. Twin flames shining in the dark eyes. “Here,” he says. I prop myself on an elbow and take the cup in my own hands, surprising him. Tomorrow, I will show Sibeal that I can do this. “Good,” Gull murmurs. “Lie back now.” And, as he returns to his own bed, “The gods guard your sleep.”

My arm hurts. My shoulder hurts. My throat aches. What a hero! That small effort has worn me out.

019

That man said that if I spoke he would kill me. What of those who tend to me? When I remember, when I tell my tale, perhaps I will imperil not just my wretched self, but all those who hear me. Perhaps my very presence endangers them. Who knows what manner of man I am?

While I wait for the dawn, I imagine an augury for Sibeal. In my mind I hold the rune rods bunched in my hand, loosely, while I ask the question. What lies ahead for Sibeal? What paths will she be offered? I let my imaginary rods fall as they will, making a pattern on the linen of the ritual cloth. Three lie across the others: these are the runes of augury. Daeg; Beorc; Gyfu.