Desperate Acts, Page 2

will do the rest."

  She looked around the clearing, at the mob, the council members, the herald, and finally Cucath. In the light of the full moon, their eyes shined with eerie green or red glows, and she saw determination in their taut bodies and alert faces. She recognized that they would go through with it, with or without her help, and she realized that they stood a better chance if she cooperation.

  She turned back to face the Queen. "Very well, I will do as you request." With her words, a deep, throbbing murmur filled the air as every cat began to purr. It sounded to her like a great sigh of relief.

  However: "I cannot guarantee success. I have only a small chance of binding her, and I must first find her and force her to come through the gate I will open, which will be difficult. The best way to do so is to attract her attention; then I may be able seize her after she appears, but she will be forewarned, and thus forearmed."

  "We understand. How long will it take you to prepare?"

  "Only a few minutes, and I can open the gate as quickly, but I cannot predict when or even if Cridedub will come, and the longer I leave the gate open, the greater the chance something else will come through instead."

  "We appreciate your concern; please proceed."

  She looked around the clearing. "I would need to work in the center; could you have the mob form a circle around me?"

  "So as it was spoken," Cucath announced, "so let it be done!"

  The Herald stepped forward. "Form a circle!"

  The mob dispersed, then surrounded the massive woman as she move into the center. Removing her foot-long, heavy-bladed, double-edged dirk from her black leather belt, she thrust it into the ground and stepped three paces from the center to draw a circle on the bare dirt with her cloth-yard-long, leaf-shaped sword. She retrieved her knife and stepped out of the circle to stand with her back to the marble pillars, so that the Council and the Queen could face the banshee. She drove the sword point-first into the earth and stuck the dirk back into her belt before stepping out of her shoes and pulling the hem of her smooth, long-sleeved, peplos-style dress up to mid-calf, stuffing the folds in her belt to hold it in place. She rubbed her hands together in an idle manner as she looked around to make sure the circle of cats was unbroken, before clasping her hands, closing her eyes, and commencing to take deep, rhythmic breaths.

  She concentrated on a mental image of Cridedub, using it to focus her will. She began chanting under her breath, keeping the sound just above a whisper. She matched the rhythm of her speech with that of her breathing, and pushed her consciousness out into the circle as she sought the resonance of the Otherworld. She did not find it hard to locate; she knew its feel, having spent seven years there, a prisoner of the Sidhe. Once she had it, she focused her mind on it and matched it with the rhythm of her chant. Finally she unclasped her hands and spread her arm wide apart as she opened her eyes.

  The air above the center shimmered, as if from heat rising out of the ground, as the fabric of space between the two universes stretched and grew thin. She felt her body pull energy out of the earth to meet the demands of piercing the dimensional barrier and she directed it into the center, using the circle of cats to contain and concentrate it. The sound of the chant began to come out of the very air itself, soft at first, but rapidly growing louder, and the shimmer intensified with it. Then, without warning, with a crash like that of a huge wave breaking against the shore, it tore in half and spread open, to reveal a lush, twilit garden, which appeared bright against the backdrop of night in the council clearing.

  The chanting stopped. "The gate is open." Her voice sounded strained to her, but she felt as if she held a great weight she dared not drop.

  She heard Cucath speak to the Herald in a hushed voice. "Have the Legion stand by; I will signal if they are needed." The Siamese flicked his ears in acknowledgement and dashed off out of the clearing.

  Sweat beaded her face as she again concentrated on the banshee. "I will now attempt to summon Cridedub." She pushed her consciousness through the gate into the Otherworld, then pursed her lips and began to blow. A thin but sharp whistle filled the clearing, its reedy, monotonous tone clear and unmistakable. She directed it out into the Otherworld, where it pierced the stillness for many leagues.

  She kept it up for over half an hour, pausing occasionally just long enough to take a deep breath. Finally, at an unexpected moment, she cut herself off. She cocked her head, as if listening to something. "She is coming. Be ready, we will have only one chance." All the cats present tensed, as if ready to spring.

  Through the gate, she spotted a small, faint, silverish glow, that grew bigger and brighter the closer it approached. Soon it resolved itself into a figure, which became more distinct the larger it became. By the time it had reached the gate, it looked like a beautiful young girl, surrounded by a thin mist that served as the source of the radiance. She wore a delicate, translucent shift of light gray, her skin was as white as milk, and her eyes were bright silver orbs without discernable pupils. In sharp contrast, her hair appeared as black as a raven's wing. She floated rather than walked, and her tresses hovered in long, snakelike locks around her head as the hem and folds of her dress swirled about her legs.

  Cridedub came right up to the gate and paused as she looked out into the clearing. Her eyes focused on Medb and she glowered at the massive woman. She felt glad that the fay recognized her. Luring her to the gate had not been the hard part. The real trick would be to entice her to come through, and simple annoyance would not have been enough. So the former queen used herself as bait, hoping the banshee would remember their first meeting and seek retribution.

  Cridedub float through the rip and bore down on her, a look of ferocious delight on her face. When she emerged completely, however, she saw the cats for the first time. She stopped dead, glaring at the assembly of felines as her features twisted in rage. Then she opened her mouth and began to scream.

  The sound went through her head like a rod of white-hot iron. The pain felt so intense she couldn't think. Around her the cats cried out in agony. The circle wavered and the gate began to weaken.

  "Hold fast!" she heard Cucath yowl. "Do not break!" Somehow, the cats found the strength to resist and the circle stabilized.

  The Queen sounded a long, mournful, drawn-out moan, but not from pain. As soon as she heard it, Medb found she could think again. The sound could not drown out the banshee's shriek, but it did mask it to some extent.

  She focused on Cridedub: "Setim!"

  A bright disc of light slammed into the faerie woman, stunning her. It briefly cut off her squall, but she threw it off and wailed again. Medb drew additional energy from the earth and shouted the word again. The banshee was knocked senseless, but she blinked and shook her head, and snarled as she opened her mouth to shriek anew.

  Before she could, Medb cried, "Ciunas!" The banshee exhaled, but no sound came forth. Her eyes grew wide with shock and she clasped her neck, but try as she may she could not force any noise from her throat.

  Medb wasted no time. She slammed her palms together and tried to clasp her hands, but they rebounded as if encountering something too strong to grasp. She tried again, and still her hands flew apart when they came too close. Sparing a moment to siphon off more energy through the ground, she tried one last time. When her hands came to together, he fingers gripped and held firm, but she could feel as if something she held between her palms struggled to get free. Meanwhile, the banshee reacted as if she had been caught within a giant's grasp, flailing her limbs and thrashing her body as she sought to break the grip.

  "I have her! I do not know how long I can hold her; work quickly."

  Selgach Mor stared at the fay, and her eyes glowed with a bright golden light. a golden halo surrounded Cridedub's head; she convulsed for a moment, shuddered, then went stiff as if paralyzed, her own eyes staring back into the cat's. Medb took advantage of the lull to tighten her grip, but she could still feel a powerful force trying to push her hands apart.

&nbs
p; The tableau held for what to her seemed like an eternity, as she strained to both hold the gate open and restrain Cridedub. Even with her prodigious strength she could only just manage it, and even her preternatural endurance neared exhaustion.

  In fact, after only a few minutes the Queen announced, "I have made a connection. I can see the thoughts of the Lords of the Host. One mind is particularly clear. He has the knowledge we seek. I shall try to extract it."

  As the Queen spoke, Medb became aware of another being on the other side of the gate. Its presence grew stronger each second, indicating it came closer. "Do so quickly; something else is approaching."

  Selgach Mor moaned in frustration. "I do not understand. His mind is open to me, but I cannot discern the information. It is as if he is keeping it just out of reach without trying to hide it."

  A jolt ran down Medb's spine as panic seized her. "It is a trick; break the connection!"

  "No, I can almost grasp it--"

  "Do as I say! This is a trap!"

  Before the Queen could react, however, a new figure stepped through the gate: a tall grand man with a powerful build, dressed all in black. He had a silver beard and hair, which framed a middle-aged face wearing a grave countenance accentuated by two black eyes.

  "Finn Bheara!" Medb gasped. "Go gcaomhnaí na naoimh