It built a barrier against the Wise Ones and held it, held it until Carse moaned in agony. Sweat ran down his face and his body writhed and he knew dimly that he was going to die, that he couldn’t stand any more.
His mind was like a closed room that is suddenly burst open by contending winds that turn over the piled-up memories and shake the dusty dreams and reveal everything, even in the darkest corners.
All except one. One place where the shadow was solid and impenetrable, and would not be dispersed.
The jewel blazed between Emer’s hands. And there was a stillness like the silence in the spaces between the stars.
Emer’s voice rang clear across it.
“Rhiannon, speak!”
The dark shadow that Carse felt laired in his mind quivered, stirred but gave no other sign. He felt that it waited and watched.
The silence pulsed. Across the pool, the watchers on the ledge moved uneasily.
Boghaz’ voice came querulously. “It is madness! How can this barbarian be the Cursed One of long ago?”
But Emer paid no heed and the jewel in her hand blazed higher and higher.