Overcomer - The Battle - Judy Colella (best love novels of all time .TXT) 📗

it behind her ear. It was quite windy on this little hill.

“You are,” the man confirmed, then pointed south. “See that cluster of buildings?

“Which – the larger group, or the group of larger ones?”

“The group of larger ones. That’s Iona Abbey, former home of St. Colmcille – I believe you know who he was, Cian, yes?”

The boy nodded; his family had been visited often by the monks from one of his monasteries in Donegal, the man’s birthplace. In fact, he was related to Niall, Cian suddenly remembered.

“So now what?” Katie asked, holding her hair back with one hand. The wind had been whipping it about her face and she was getting annoyed.

“Now,” said the Keeper, “we walk. We’re heading toward the shore down there where I’ll hire a boat for later on.”

As they began their descent, a group of tourists were trudging up toward them, some laughing with each other, others looking up at the hill like it was Mount Everest, still others more interested in the scenery all around. A man at the front identified himself as the Guide by his constant, almost sing-song lecture about the hill, which he was calling Dun I, saying it was once a fort that had been built in the Iron Age. The man acknowledged the four coming toward him with a friendly nod, not missing a beat in his narrative.

Cian had been looking to his right at the sweep of land – it reminded him of the pure beauty of the land surrounding his cottage so very long ago – but was distracted by the noise of the tourists, and turned to look at them. There was a sudden, weird silence as every female member of the group stared, seemingly love-struck, at the preternaturally handsome boy passing them.

Katie giggled and tucked her left arm in his right, while Celeste took his left, and both gave the group cheeky grins.

“I really wish that would stop happening,” Cian muttered once they were past the tourists.

Celeste grinned. “I think the only way that could ever be is if you started wearing a paper bag over your head.”

He thought about that for a few seconds. “Yes, but then I couldn’t see where I was going,” he pointed out seriously.

“You could always cut holes in it for your eyes,” suggested Katie, holding back her amusement.

“I suppose, but that would really make people stare.”

This was too much. Both girls dissolved into hysterics. “We’re joking!” Celeste gagged, further tickled by his look of total confusion.

Ahead of them, the Keeper smiled to himself. He was glad they were enjoying themselves so much, because what they would be dealing with later wasn’t funny at all. In fact, this could well be the last time they would be laughing for a long time. He thought about their carefree hearts and hoped he was dead wrong.

ELEVEN

When they reached the Abbey, they stopped to gaze at the lovely old buildings of which it consisted, but soon the Keeper was urging them on again. They went down past the Heritage Centre, deciding they’d return to enjoy its lovely garden and café for a bite before continuing by boat to their ultimate destination, Fingal’s Cave.

Had they turned left at the bottom of the hill, they would have eventually come to the shore facing Staffa Island, the home of the Cave. However, the only way to actually get there was either by joining one of the boat tours, or hiring a boat of their own, which was what the Keeper was planning to do. He had a friend there – of course – who would lend him his small motorboat whenever it was needed, and it was to this man’s shop that he brought his charges, not really caring about the stares Cian was getting. That was the least of anyone’s concerns right then, and it wasn’t until they’d sat down for a light dinner at the café a little later on that the man relaxed somewhat.

A woman approached their table to ask if what Celeste was carrying all wrapped up was a harp, but her eyes never left Cian’s face.

“It is, dear lady,” said the Keeper. “In fact, we’ll be taking it over to the Cave later – she has to practice for a concert which will be held within its walls.”

“How lovely!” she remarked automatically, having comprehended nothing he’d said.

When their food arrived, the woman reluctantly went back to her own table, all the while looking back over her shoulder at the young man and nearly tripping over a child who was on his way to the bathroom.

They ate in silence, some of the Keeper’s returning tension having finally rubbed off on the rest of them.

Uncomfortable with the unusual solemnity, Katie finally asked, “Was that the ‘camouflage’ you were talking about when you told that lady about the harp?”

“What? Oh, yes. Lots of people have held concerts in the cave because of its acoustics. And since the coming battle there was carefully orchestrated, I wasn’t lying.”

“Oh. Look, Mr. C. As important and serious as all of this is, I don’t think it’s such a great idea to get all melodramatic right now. Cian needs to be encouraged, not brought down, you know?”

He looked at her, shaking his head, his smile rueful. “You’re absolutely right once again, Katie. I apologize for being so somber, especially on such a lovely evening.”

The air was far from warm, but the sun, which had been blazing bright in a wide, sheer blue sky for most of the day, was now mellowing into sunset, the air fresh with the sweet sea-smell, and the food was good. They all lightened up a little, finishing their meal feeling contented.

“Okay, my friends, it’s time to head for the dock.” The Keeper stood, tossed a few bills on the table for a tip, and they followed him down to the Ferry dock where the last group of tourists was crowding onto the large white and red boat heading for Fionnport, the other terminus for the Ferry on the Isle of Mull across the Sound of Iona.

As it turned out, the motorboat they were using themselves was larger than they’d expected: a good thing, considering the choppy water they had to traverse to get to the Cave. The sun was almost gone when they pulled up to its entrance, an impressive structure made of hexagonal columns crowded together like gigantic fistfuls of unsharpened pencils. The mouth was huge, but the waterway leading inside was itself quite narrow.

The Keeper slowed the motor, and they could hear the slap of water against rock as he steered carefully down the center of the entrance.

Cradling the Harp in her arms, Celeste peered into the darkness ahead, feeling a growing sense of uncertainty. Other than knowing she was to play without stopping as Cian battled this spirit creature, she really wasn’t sure what to expect.

As for Cian, the battle was one he both feared and welcomed. He had some idea now of what this being was capable of doing, and knew that only the power of the Sword with its connection to the words in the Scroll could bring about a triumphant finish, but he also recognized this as another kind of battle, one with himself and his past, and a third to bring a measure of relief to those who might otherwise fall victim to this creature’s vile appetites. It was because of these last two that he didn’t jump out of the boat and swim for all he was worth back to the Island behind them. That, and the fact that he didn’t know how to swim.

At last, the Keeper cut the engine completely and moored the boat on a semi-flat area of broken stone on their right. Here, the Cave was almost pitch black, and the water washing in and out made an unbelievably beautiful, ethereal swirl of echoes that were so all-encompassing, they felt almost like an entity in themselves. From the bottom of the boat, he took a large electric lantern that he switched on as he stood, illuminating the magnificent columns around them and showing that they’d reached the back wall of the Cave. They got out carefully, and Cian helped the man pull the boat a bit further up onto the shingle.

The Keeper asked Celeste to remove the cloth covering the Harp, which he bundled together with the other one, tucking both under his arm. “Follow me, please.” His voice sounded bizarre and hollow, and Katie had to resist the urge to make ghost noises.

He stopped a few yards later, facing the massive wall of stone, and sang out on a single note the words, “Ni ceart go cur le cheile!”

The stone dissolved in a rather more spectacular way than the portals; it seemed to disintegrate from the top down in a shower of black sparks, leaving an opening large enough to permit the entrance of a mid-sized commercial airplane. Beyond, they could see a vast meadow glowing in an unnatural twilight. A small mound rose about four feet at the very distant right edge of this meadow. At the top of the slope grew a golden-barked tree with tiny silver leaves. Without being told, Celeste knew this was where she and Katie were to sit, and indeed it was toward this rise that the Keeper led them. It took some time to cross the meadow, which was much larger than they’d thought. When they finally reached the area with the tree, the Keeper asked Celeste to sit down, indicating that Katie should sit next to her. His voice this time sounded almost normal, but not quite. It was like they were in a very tight space and all sounds were intimate with no reverberation of any kind.

Cian removed his coat and handed it to Croghan, moving his shoulders to readjust the straps so the sword was once again within reach, then nodded, satisfied. “Keeper,” he said into the rigid air, “are they going to be watching?”

“They are. That is how Celeste will know what music to use to protect you.”

“Then how will they not be blinded by the Sword’s light?”

“Ah, that is what these are for.” He took the blue cloth pieces from under his arm, shook them out together, and threw them up in the air. As they floated back down they grew, the threads separating into a massive grid that eventually stretched into invisibility.

“Draw your Sword, Cian,” the Keeper ordered.

He obeyed, and to his utter amazement, the girls stared right at him, as did the Keeper, none of them in any way affected by its Light; Cian’s eyes had already been granted some kind of protection, but now everyone could look at it and not be blinded. He sheathed it again, pleased.

“That was way cool,” Katie whispered loudly to Celeste.

“And you are way weird,” her friend said, stifling a giggle.

“I know.”

“Ladies, please,” said the Keeper, sobering them instantly. “Celeste, I need you to stay under that tree, no matter what you see, no matter what happens. And Katie, stay close beside her. Both of you must watch diligently and under no circumstances – ” he paused to give them a look so stern it almost made them tremble, “ – regardless of what you see and how frightening it may appear –