‘You two go for a walk,’ Mom said. ‘You have much to talk about and we have much to do here, if I am to cast Shadowrunes tonight.’
‘Come, son, and I will tell of things I have long wished I could tell.’
Dad and I walked outside in the dark shade of beautiful trees adorned with clusters of red berries.
‘What trees are these?’ I asked.
‘Rowan. The Fililands are the Rowanlands. Maeve used to hold the Luis Rune,’ Dad explained. ‘The berries are poisonous but the Fili manage to somehow make jam out of it. I think I saw you have some this morning.’
‘I did. It was nice.’
‘The Fili are a clever people; my father was wrong in punishing them all. My mother asked him to be lenient but he was so appalled by the war – he ruled with his heart and not with his head.’
‘Your mother?’ I said, suddenly wondering why I had never even thought to ask before.
Dad closed his eyes for a second.
An evil thought entered my mind. ‘Did Cialtie kill her too?’
‘No, after I was born she went over the water on a sorceress’ quest. She never returned. Finn had Ona perform a Runecasting to find her – but to no avail. She must have died.’
‘Who was she?’
‘My mother – your grandmother – was a sorceress. Her yew wand held the power of the horses. I never knew her. It was said that she raised the finest horses in The Land. Her name was Macha. There is a town in Ireland called Emain Macha.’
‘Emain means twin, doesn’t it?’
‘That’s right. Cullen – or should I say Cu-cullen – named it during one of his tall tale sessions, I believe. He was referring to Cialtie and me.’
‘You and Cialtie are twins? I thought he said he was your older brother.’
‘He is, but everyone called us twins because there is only a year between us. Immortals don’t have very many children – otherwise the place would be overrun. It is very rare for someone to have two children so close together. So we were called Emain Macha – Macha’s Twins.’
‘But Cialtie is the oldest and heir to the throne?’
‘Heirs are not decided by nepotism in The Land. Runelords are made at their Runechoosing.’
‘I keep hearing about this Runechoosing. What is it?’
‘When a young man or woman comes of age they prepare a small disc of oak and place it on a piece of gold. They then carry the oak and gold through the three antechambers of the Hall of Runes. At each doorway a muirbhrúcht is passed.’
‘Muirbhrúcht? I don’t know that word.’
‘It literally means tidal wave but most people who have performed the Choosing say it’s more like a riptide but in the air all around you. What it is, is incredibly difficult, both mentally and physically. A Chooser may give up after the first antechambers; after that stopping means death. The rune becomes hot in your hand after each muirbhrúcht. The gold melts into the oak. When, or if, you pass through the final barrier, you may turn over the piece of oak in your hand. Upon it, engraved in gold, will be a rune. Some runes are major runes – these are for Runelords. Others are minor runes – these are for heirs. Only after a Runelord has left or died may the holders of the minor runes retake their Choosing to see who is to be the Runelord.’
‘What rune do you hold?’
Dad held up his stump. ‘One cannot choose a rune without a runehand. I have never attempted the Choosing.’
‘Cialtie has, hasn’t he?’
‘Yes. Everyone expected him to choose one of the Duir Runes but he chose a Virgin Rune.’
‘A Virgin Rune?’
‘Yes, a Virgin Rune is one that has never been chosen before. It had been so long since a new rune appeared that most of us thought it was myth, but then it happened. Cialtie chose Getal – the Reed Rune. A week later, word arrived that the Reedlands had appeared east of the Hazellands. Then we knew that the legends of the Origins were true.’
‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘let me get this straight. Cialtie chose a new rune and poof, some land appeared out of nowhere?’
‘Out of the sea,’ Dad corrected. ‘The Land is an island.’
‘Right, so the Reedlands appeared out of the sea – and this never happened before?’
‘Not since the beginnings.’
‘And when was that?’
Dad smiled at me like I was a kid again. ‘That – was before time. Sit down, son, and I’ll tell you of our ancestors.’
We had walked to the edge of the forest – before us was Ona’s blackthorn wall. Beyond that was the blackened Hazellands. Dad placed his hand on a fallen rowan tree and asked its permission to use it. He sat on the tree and I sat cross-legged at his feet.
‘Ériu was the first, she is the mother of The Land and is considered a god among many – especially the Leprechauns. My father believed that she was his great-great-great-grandmother. When she came, The Land was a tiny island. Some think she found the oak trees here – others say she brought an acorn with her. Either way, she was the first lord of Duir. Together with the Leprechauns, she built the first House of Duir and excavated the mines.’
‘Where did the Leprechauns come from?’
‘Who knows? They believe that Ériu made them. That is why they are so loyal to the House of Duir. Anyway, Ériu was a great sorceress. Your mother believes she may have possessed Shadowmagic, but most of her skills were with Truemagic, powered by the gold in the mines.
‘She sent for her sisters: Banbha and Fódla. Together they created the Chamber of Runes. Banbha chose the Iodhadh Rune and created the Yewlands. Fódla chose the Quert Rune, and her Choosing created the Orchardlands.’
‘Where did the Imps and the Banshees come from?’
‘When a Virgin Land is created by a Choosing, it is said that often it appears with full-grown trees, but sometimes it appears with people. The Imps supposedly appeared with the Orchardlands. Later, an Imp attempted the Choosing and chose the Ur Rune for the first time, creating the Heatherlands (or the Implands as we call them). That would be one of your friend Araf’s ancestors.
‘The Banshees are different. They believe they were sent for from the Otherworld by Banbha, to protect our shores.’
‘Is this all true?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘When I was young, I thought all this was just myth and legend. When the Reedlands appeared, I started to think again.’
As I sat at his feet and listened to him, I realised that I had not only missed a mother in my life, but also a father who could tell the truth. The years of holding back were lifting off his shoulders. He looked younger as he told me things that he had been aching to tell before. I was just about to hear the story of how he got his hand chopped off (and it was easy to guess who did it), when we heard the pathetic yelp of a wounded animal.
Dad and I ran to the blackthorns. It was a wolf – a big wolf. It was manically trying to dig under the blackthorn wall, but the blackthorns were having none of it. The thorns had wrapped themselves around the wolf’s head. There was fresh blood where a thorn had pierced the side of its ear but that wasn’t its only wound. A black arrow stuck out of the wolf’s hindquarters. The whole of its back end was caked with dried blood. The beast made a sickening yelp as the thorns pressed harder. Dad spoke to the blackthorns and they reluctantly loosened their grip.
Dad