Episode 89

Chapter 1 of the Winter's Heart Saga

Part IV

"Hey, Ross."

"Yes, Max."

"So what are we gonna do if we run into this Ice Witch?"

"Beg for our lives, probably."

"Think she'd turn us into to snow toads?"

"Snow toads, Max?"

"Yeah, you know those ones whose skin turns white in the winter -- "

"I think you may be thinking of hares, Max."

"Course not, toads don't have hair. They've got warts."

"Never mind..."

"Though I guess they could have hair in their ears or noses or something where it doesn't show..."

The three Drakkars were walking purposefully once again through the mountain caverns, this time in search of Corvath, who had run off in pursuit of the druidess Girvanna. Of course, if they found the way out of the cavern, that would be good too...

"You're awfully quiet, Callen. What's on your mind? Other than our likely deaths at the hands of one or more witches, of course."

"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

"Is that from the Bible?" asked Max, who'd never paid a great deal of attention in church as a boy.

Callen shrugged. "Might be. It was a big favorite among the respectable folks back home whenever somebody wanted some old widow's land."

"Unfortunately," said Ross, leading the way with the torch, "we're not armed to do anything else. I doubt that if we meet this Ice Witch, she'll be accommodating enough to let us get close enough to stick a knife in her ribs."

They turned a sharp corner and practically stumbled into Corvath and Girvanna. The auburn druidess was kneeling on the ground with Corvath bending over her. He straightened up and hallooed to them once he spotted the glow of their approaching torch.

"She's taken a turn, and seems to have twisted her ankle," said the slight, nebbish older man.

"That's what happens when you run off into a dark cave without a light," said Callen, "Can you stand on it?"

"Nae," Girvanna grimaced, "But I need t'get to my sisters --"

"Allow me," said Ross. Crouching down, he took her left arm around his shoulder and lifted her up. She leaned against him on her good foot; he smiled at her, but she took no notice.

"If ye keep on straight ahead, we'll be there soon," she said.

It was a bit of wishful thinking, as using Ross as a crutch and hobbling along on one foot slowed Girvanna considerably. The others walked more or less in silence, as she grew increasingly more anxious.

The caves twisted and turned without any apparent end. Ross soon realized that had they not caught up with Girvanna and Corvath as quickly as they did, they would soon have become hopelessly lost.

Eventually a faint light shone ahead of them, which made Girvanna even more anxious. Soon the mouth of the chamber was visible, outlined in the pale, blue-white light. Ross nearly stopped dead in awe at what he saw ahead, but Girvanna urged him on.

Ross and Girvanna hobbled into the bright new chamber. Max, Callen, and Corvath followed behind. All but Girvanna were stunned at the sight.

The chamber was nearly circular, about ten meters across, and like the other had a high, almost vaulted ceiling many meters above. There were no stalactites or any other of the usual cave formations here, however. The chamber walls were made entirely of some translucent-white crystal, with scores of clean, angular faces. It took the reflected light in the room and seemed to internalise it, making it seem as if the light came from somewhere far behind the walls themselves. Whether the material was quartz, diamond, or something else they couldn't say, but it filled the Drakkars with an awe unequalled by any mere cathedral.

And yet it paled in comparison with what lay in the centre of the room.

Rising up through the crystalline floor was a mass of jet black, glassy stone. Its amorphous, fluid shape was in stark contrast to the geometrical forms of the walls. Its smooth surface was pock-marked with natural bubbles frozen in the stone, as it had been suddenly frozen from molten rock. It rose to just above chest height. Lying in a hollow on the top of the black stone was the largest, most brilliant, most perfect diamond any of them had ever seen. It was nearly the size of Callen's fist, which was acknowledged on the Drakkar as the one you least wanted to be hit with, based on sheer size.

Ross fought the urge to cross himself. "My God, what is it?" Callen whispered.

"The Winter's Heart," said Ita.

For the first time they noticed Sorcha and Ita standing off to one side of the chamber. Sorcha's orb of daylight hung several meters above the stone.

"That wasn't smart, Girvanna," said Ita in Gaelic, "By bringing them here, you've issued their death orders."

"Girvanna, you're hurt," said Sorcha with concern.

"Do you feel it?" said Girvanna. She acted as if she hadn't heard them. Her eyes were locked on the diamond, as if she were being mesmerised.

"Aye," said Ita, "That's why we called ye. It's calling out to someone... calling out to Her."

"She's near," said Sorcha, "She must be. Girvanna, what happened? Did they hurt ye?"

"Nae, it's my own daft fault..." She pushed herself away from Ross and tried putting weight on her injured foot. She winced painfully, but didn't topple over. "Dinna worry, I'll be able t' hold my own when she comes. How close d'ye think she is?"

"Right behind ye, I'd figure," said Ita.

"So what now?" asked Sorcha.

"We wait," said Girvanna.

"Aye," said Ita, "but first we need t' solve our little problem here..."

The discussion passed entirely over the heads of the Drakkars. Ross wondered what they were saying, and felt a small pang of disappointment when Girvanna pushed herself away.

Callen leaned towards Max and Corvath, and said under his breath, "We wouldn't get out of here alive if we tried to steal it, would we." It was not a question.

"I don't think so. I can't believe I'm saying this," said Max, "but I think it would be wrong to steal it. Really really wrong."

"Yeah," said Callen, "I can't believe I'm saying it either, but I think you're right... Corvath, are you okay? You look like you're looking at Old Scratch himself."

Corvath was staring at the diamond in the same way Girvanna had when they first came in. "Gentlemen," he said, "I get the feeling that I would like to be very, very far away from that stone right now..."

"I'm with Corvath on this," said Ross. He cleared his throat loudly, causing the three sisters to break off their conversation.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt," he said, "You hospitality has really been very generous, and your... abode is really beyond comparison. But I really do think we should be going now. We do have a ship to catch."

"Oh?" said Ita.

"This thing between you and the Ice Witch isn't our concern," said Callen.

"It will be everyone's concern if she gains control of the Winter's Heart," said Girvanna.

"We have the utmost confidence in you," said Ross. "Besides, we'd just be in the way. We have no weapons."

"Ye're not going anywhere," said Ita, "Nae outsider's seen the Winter's Heart in generations. And it's out responsibility to keep it that way..."

"I don't like the sound of that," said Max.

"Here now," said Corvath, "I think this prisoner business has gone quite far enough -- "

"Fine then!" said Sorcha sharply. "Leave if ye will!"

"Sorcha --" hissed Ita.

"Nae, Ita, they're free t'go," said Sorcha. "Provided ye can find your way out. And ye'll have t'get past the Cold One, who suffers no mortal t'live..."

"Cuts both ways, apparently," muttered Callen.

"And of course, there's the yeti," Sorcha continued. Max shuddered.

"Aye," said Ita, smiling, "and dinna forget, ye're without supplies, and your clothes are still wet. I dinna give ye much chance t' survive once ye're out of the caves anyway..."

"Er...," said Ross.

"The passage out is behind ye," said Girvanna.

"Time for a ship's conference," said Ross. "Corvath, huddle up."

They stepped off to the side, away from the mouth of the cavern, placing the Winter's Heart and its black stone pedestal between themselves and the sisters. They formed a circle and bent their heads together.

"They've got a point, dammit," said Ross.

"It does look like they're holding all the cards," said Callen. "Our choice seems to be stay here in the middle of this witchy power struggle and hope they survive to help us get out of here, or face God knows what out in the cavern alone."

"Can't we just overpower them and take hostages?" asked Max.

"You want another hundred pounds of sand in your face?" said Ross.

"Better that than yeti snatch."

"Will you get over it?" said Ross, " Corvath, you have a say in this, too. You're practically an honorary Drakkar at this point."

"That is indeed an honour," said Corvath. "Despite my profound misgivings about that stone, I feel for the moment we're better off with the M'Covees. They seem genuinely concerned about this Ice Witch, and from what little we've seen of their own magic, I believe that if they're concerned then it's for a reason. I'm not sure how we'd face against the Ice Witch alone."

"I see," said Ross. "I have to admit, while I'm not sanguine about our chances either way, my chivalrous instincts are against leaving the women to face whatever terror is coming alone."

"It's not our fight," said Callen, "and you know I don't like dying for other people's causes. But I don't think the alternative is any better."

"Max?"

"I'm with Callen," said Max, "but I'll stay if that's what we gotta do. I just don't wanna get sat on again."

"All right," said Ross, "time to vote. I say stay."

"I also," said Corvath.

"Callen?"

He sighed. "Stay. But under protest."

"Max?" "Stay."

"Everyone sure? Very well," said Ross, "it's unanimous." He turned back to where the M'Covees watched them with some interest. "We're staying," he said, "and, for whatever you think it's worth, you have our help."

Ita raised her eyebrows. "Ach, I have to admit, I'm surprised."

"It's not for any principle, mind you, we just estimate marginally better odds of survival this way."

"Of course," she said. Drawing her sword, she stepped forward and offered the hilt to Ross. "Take it. We'll nae be needin' steel against her."

He took the sword and examined it. Sorcha and Girvanna offered theirs to Max and Callen, respectively. "It's a remarkable blade," said Ross. "I've never seen one like it." Corvath was staring at it in fascination. "You fence, Corvath?"

"Ah... no," said the elder scholar. He tore his eyes from the blade and smiled. "I was just admiring the markings on the blade. I have seen something like it, once long ago."

"It's been in the Clan for generations," said Ita. "It has quite a number of stories attached to it..." She trailed off suddenly. All three M'Covees turned to the Winter's Heart, which was now visibly glowing with a cold, moon-like light.

"She's here," said Sorcha.

Callen tested Girvanna's sword in the air. He was pleased by the balance. "Let her come. Let's get it over with."

As if he'd summoned it, a mist began to gather at the mouth of the cavern. The Drakkars and M'Covees backed away as it thickened. A light appeared from somewhere behind the mist, pale and frozen, as if a reflection of the Winter's Heart's own. A silhouette appeared within the mists, and then she stepped out into the Cave of Summer's Ice.

The Ice Witch was tall, willowy, and slender, with whitish-blonde hair cascading down her back. Her skin was deathly pale, devoid of any colour. Her dress seemed to be a continually-shifting raiment of ice crystals. In life, she was probably a great beauty; but now, none of the men before her could remember anyone so inherently terrifying.

She gazed at the Winter's Heart like a long-parted lover. "At last," she whispered. Her voice was old, whispery like the wind, full of longing.

A succession of long, canine forms slipped into the cave behind her - eight ice wolves, their fur white and pale grey. They took up watchful positions on either side of their mistress.

The M'Covees threw back their cloaks and stepped in front of the diamond. Beneath the cloaks, they each wore silken gowns woven with gold, in warm, rich colours - Ita's sea green, Sorcha's orange-red, Girvanna's sandy yellow. The M'Covee tartan was draped across their chests and shoulders like a sash.

Ross gestured Max and Callen back. "Corvath," he whispered, "whatever you do, stay behind us."

"Grab the knife from my belt," said Callen, "use it if you have to."

"That won't be necessary, Callen, thank you..."

The wolves rumbled low in their throats. The Ice Witch smiled. "What have we here?"

"We are the Summer Order of the Clan M'Covee," intoned Ita, hoping she sounded much braver than she felt, "charged with the keeping of the Winter's Heart since Those Who Left... er, left."

Dammit, that sounded better in her head.

"Ye won't possess the Winter's Heart, Crianna," said Sorcha. The orb of daylight flared behind her, causing the wolves to shy back slightly.

"Youngsters... stand aside if you value your lives..."

The Ice Witch spread her arms and said a succession of spell-words. Snowflakes formed swirling about her clenched fists.

"Callen," said Ross under his breath, "when the black magic starts, you and I will dispatch the wolves. Max, make sure Corvath stays safe."

"Aight." "Gotcha."

"Ye're not havin' the stone, Ice Witch," said Ita.

"Then you all will die. Wonsekalf Kcatta!"

"Areflay!" "Urfsay!" "Olyhay Itgray!"

In an instant the cave became a confused maelstrom of flying snow, ice, brine, sand and intense light. Ross and Callen blindly leapt forward, following the snarls of the wolves. Ross stabbed down blindly with Ita's sword, and a pair of anguished yelps signalled he'd hit his mark. A burst of water shot close by him, and he found Ita trying to fight off a wolf directly in front of him. He reached out and grabbed the creature's pelt, yanked it away from her and ran it through. She nodded thanks and turned back to help her sisters.

As Ross turned, he was nearly felled by a powerful blow to the jaw. He barely recovered in time to avoid another, and saw his attacker was a wolfish, troll-like humanoid wielding a club of bone. It held one arm at an odd angle, and there was a prominent bloody patch on its shoulder.

"Note to self, make sure wolves are dead before they turn into werewolves..."

The creature swung its club, and Ross blocked its arm with his own, dodging the club with his head. With his free hand he pulled the dagger from his belt and brought it up into the creature's throat. He pushed it away and it fell with a bloody gurgle.

He ducked again as a chunk of frozen mud the size of an accordion whizzed past his ear. A retreat to the far side of the cave may be wise, he thought.

He spun around as he heard another wolf-troll behind him. This one carried a crude hand-axe, and though its blows were forceful, Ross was able to parry them with Ita's sword. Definitely, a superior blade.

He backed into something and felt it press back against him. Instinctively he knew what it was.

"Holding out all right, Callen?"

"Been better, Cap'n, but I'm making due."

The two ducked simultaneously, and their attackers' weapons collided in mid-air. Both stabbed upwards, Ross hitting the groin while Callen only grazed his attacker's flank. Ross drove the sword home and slit the creature's throat with his knife for good measure. Pulling his sword free, he turned and help Callen skewer the other.

"Not terribly easy, are they?" he said.

"What?" shouted Callen as they were drowned out by an exploding sun-flare nearby.

"I said -- ," Ross was cut off as Girvanna and a large quantity of sand and ice fell on top of him.

"Are you all right?" Callen bent down to where Girvanna was doubled up in pain.

"Ach, my ankle gave out again... Is he all right?"

Callen checked Ross's pulse. "Just knocked out. Stay here, I'll -- "

He whirled around and tried to block the club of a wolf-troll that was swinging for his skull. His blade snapped into two, and the blow skewed to the side and scraped the side of his head. Callen went down. Girvanna hit it in the face with a sizeable sand-blast, then stabbed it in the leg with the broken sword for good measure.

Callen moaned, half conscious. He lay sprawled with his bloodied head nearly in Girvanna's lap, while she sat on Ross's legs and a small mound of icy sand.

Suddenly she realised it was too quiet.

The Ice Witch's laugh rang out through the chamber. The haze was beginning to clear. To one side, Girvanna could see a bewildered Corvath half supporting an unconscious Max, two dead wolf-trolls at their feet. On the other side of the chamber, Ita and Sorcha were stuck to the wall by manacles of ice, with rings of ice around their mouths hindering them from casting further spells. They looked back despairingly at Girvanna.

In the centre of the chamber, the Ice Witch clasped the Winter's Heart in her hand. She looked scorched and battered, but triumphant.

"It is mine!" she said.

"No!" Girvanna raised her arms, but suddenly she felt a ball of ice forming in her mouth. She choked, trying to speak. Her arms were flung back, and her hands iced over until like her sisters, she was frozen to the wall. She looked in horror at the Ice Witch.

"You cannot speak, you cannot summon" she said. She sounded out of breath. "And the mortals were easily dispatched. Now the Winter's Heart is mine... and its unlimited power over the precious, life-sucking cold. I shall smother this world in ice, and the skies themselves will fall as rain..."

A very soft voice interrupted her victory speech. She looked over at Corvath in surprise. He gently laid Max on the ground and took one step in her direction.

"I believe this has gone quite far enough," said Corvath. The wry little scholar looked more dishevelled than ever, but he had a hard look in his eyes.

The Ice Witch simply stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "Oh, do you, old man? I'm surprised you've even survived this long!"

"You don't get to be my age without being careful."

"You will never age again," she said. She lifted the Winter's Heart from its pedestal. A radiance as bright as the sun shone from the stone, and travelled part way down her arm. Her other hand became enveloped in energy, and when she reached for Corvath, a shaft of pure destruction shot towards him.

The beam seemed to die almost an inch from his chest.

Her smile vanished. She concentrated on pouring more of her newly-acquired power into the attack. The front of the beam advanced a few millimetres, then crept back again. Corvath simply stood his ground, fixing her with the same hard stare. The immobilised M'Covees looked on in bewilderment.

Finally the Ice Witch broke off her attack. The glow died away from all but the stone itself. Breathing heavily, she looked at Corvath in utter confusion. And a fear she had not felt in three hundred years.

"I don't understand," she said. "I ought to be invincible."

Corvath smiled patiently. "You're only invincible until you meet someone more invincible than you are," he said.

He whispered a single word, completing a spell he had been silently weaving since the confusion of the battle began, just in case. Girvanna felt the room tilt, spin, and fade into darkness. It lasted an eternity, and was over in less than a heartbeat.

When her vision cleared, Corvath was gently placing the Winter's Heart back on its pedestal. The formerly perfect gem now had a single hairline crack winding from its centre outwards.

The Ice Witch was gone without a trace.

Ita spat out a mouthful of sour water and looked nervously at Corvath.

"Where is she?" she asked.

"Elsewhere," said Corvath. He walked over to Girvanna and looked worriedly over Callen and Ross. Callen's eyes fluttered erratically.

Girvanna pulled her hands free of the melting ice. "How..." she croaked. Corvath helped her up and over to where her sisters were likewise pulling free.

"It was not by any means easy," said Corvath quietly, "or pleasant. I've learned quite a bit of your magic since I came here, but that was by far the most difficult trick I've attempted."

Sorcha put her arms around her sister and held her up. Corvath stepped towards the black stone, where Ita was examining the Winter's Heart.

"It's flawed," she said. She looked at Corvath. "You put her inside it, didn't ye?"

"It's now up to you to ensure she stays there," said Corvath. "I cannot imagine how much more powerful she may become if she is released."

"What are ye?" Ita felt her legs weaken. "Are ye... one of Those Who Left?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Long ago," said Sorcha, "there were the Al Ma'tal, and Those Who Left. The Mages. When they were gone, the Al Ma'tal followed, and were lost."

"Ah," said Corvath. He wandered over to where Ross and Callen lay. Spotting Ross's sword - or Ita's - he picked it up. "I believe I understand now. No, I'm not who you call Those Who Left. You might say... I'm from the other side."

His eyes wandered over the M'Covees. "And now you know what I am. I was hoping to avoid that..." He toyed with the sword. "Let me make myself clear, ladies... you will never speak of what happened here, not even among yourselves. You will never tell anyone that a man named Corvath was here. You... never know who might be listening. If you do, let me remind you there is plenty of room for more witches in your diamond. Perhaps for an entire Clan of them."

They nodded. Corvath smiled. "Good. There are two other favours I'd like to ask of you. I do consider that you owe me, what with all I've done for you..."

"What do ye want?" asked Ita.

"Firstly," said Corvath, "my friends will need some patching up, and guides out of these caves and mountains."

"That we will do willingly," said Girvanna. "They were very kind to help us."

"Indeed. Secondly," he hefted the sword and looked at it appraisingly. "I want you to make a gift of this sword to Ross."

Ita blanched. "But... but... ye dinna know what ye're asking! That sword is a relic of the most holy days, older than our family, older than the Clan! The stories say it was with this sword that a demon king slew the last Prince of the Al Ma'tal... It's the holiest relic of the Order..."

"I know," said Corvath apologetically. "The truth is, I believe it belongs to my nephew."

Dawn was just breaking as Ross, Callen, Max and Corvath emerged from the mountain pass. They stopped at a point where the path crested and turned to the north, snaking down from the plateau of the pass to the flat land below. The landscape before them was a welcome sight. A sizeable town lay not far past the foot of the mountain, its thatched roofs just barely dusted with the first skiff of November. Smoke rose into the sky from a handful of chimneys, and lanterns could be spied bobbing along the narrow streets and alleys. Beyond the town they could see farms and forest, their fall colours turned brown and grey in the early morning light. And beyond those, just a faint glimmer of the sea at the horizon where the orange-pink sun crept skywards.

"There's a welcome sight if there ever was one," said Ross. "After an entire day in those caves, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see the sun again."

"Or an inn, for that matter," said Callen. A rough cloth bandage was wrapped around his head. "I think we have barely enough scotch left to get us into town."

"We're made of strong stuff, Callen," said Ross, "We'll make it..."

He glanced behind them. He knew the M'Covees were there somewhere, watching to make sure they left, but he saw no sign of them.

"Let's get out of here," said Max, "The sooner I'm back in the crow's nest a hundred leagues from any witches or druidesses, the better."

"Quite right, Max," said Ross. They turned and started down the northwards path to the village. "I'm glad those lasses are on our side. From what you say, Corvath, they gave the Ice Witch a thrashing I'd never want to risk for myself."

"It was indeed quite something," said Corvath, carefully picking his way over some rough ground. "Their powers are formidable. Still, your own contributions are not to be dismissed. They were certainly very appreciative in making you a gift of that sword."

Ross patted the blade strapped to his back. "Indeed they were... This sword is worth double the value of the two I lost in the avalanche, at least. Though I won't be selling it." He smiled slyly. "I suspect the dark one, Ita, fancied me somewhat. You could see the fascination in her eyes. I shall honour her memory by keeping this blade at my side and naming it for her."

"Really, Captain, are you always this sentimental about women you hardly know?" said Corvath, smiling.

"Only ones that give him swords worth a fortune," said Callen.

"It's the ones that turn him down that are worth remembering anyway," said Max. Callen laughed and Ross shot him a glare.

"Only three days more back to port," said Ross. "Callen, I'm genuinely homesick. If those bastards have harmed so much as a splinter on the Good Lady's hull -- "

"She'll need a lot of work, in any case," said Callen, "Just after being out of service all this time. The crew'll be getting fat by now, too."

"But," said Ross brightly, "they're probably all out of money. We'll be able to cut their pay with nary a complaint."

"Yeah, sure," said Max, "Just let me get safely back up in the nest before you tell'em. Especially Penelope, she throws knives when she's mad, but isn't as good at it as she thinks she is."

"What about you, Corvath?" asked Ross, "What are your plans now?"

"Well...," said the scholar speculatively, "originally I had planned to wander about the local towns for a time, taking on scribe work, here and there, while I continue my work of collecting information on the local culture and history. However, a rather intriguing new idea has presented itself to me."

"Oh?"

"Yes," he said. "You see, it's my goal in life to experience as many cultures and ways of life in the world as I can until my time here is at an end. In your voyages as, ah, 'highland corsairs', you travel more than I could ever hope to on my own..."

"Yes...," said Ross, "I think I see where this is going. Corvath, I don't think our life would suit you. You're use to a fairly quiet life, I imagine, holed up with piles of dusty books, quills and ink, all that kind of thing. Not the sort of hard manual labour, brute violence, and extremity that we meet on the Drakkar. And we don't take on passengers. To be honest, you'd be more of a hindrance than a help as any sort of crewman."

"We already have a scribe," said Max.

"That too," said Ross.

"I see," said Corvath. "Well, I would be willing to pay any and all expenses..."

"No, money isn't really --" Ross began. Corvath reached into his coat and produced a surprisingly large skin purse. He reached into it and pulled out a handful of gold jewellery, coins, sapphires, diamonds, and one bright red ruby.

"I have a few savings," said Corvath nonchalantly, "and such that I've accumulated along the way for my scribe-work. Enough perhaps to offset the inconvenience of having me around for a few months..."

Ross and Max stared in amazement. Callen clasped his hand on Corvath's shoulder and gently relieved him of the handful of loot. "I think we can work something out," he said paternally. "Don't you, Captain?"

"By all means," Ross nodded. "Corvath... forgive me if you've heard this before, but I believe this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Epilogue

Ita, Girvanna and Sorcha sat in their mother's house, waiting anxiously.

"It's going to be bad, isn't it?" said Sorcha. She sat next to the fire, huddling more from nerves than from the cold.

"How bad can it be?" said Ita. She sat at the table, legs propped up on the table in a manner that would give ladies in the finer centres of Europe a case of the vapours. "The Ice Witch is gone, defeated. Because of us."

"But it wasn't us..." Ita shot her a warning glare, and Sorcha trailed off.

"We accomplished all that has ever been asked of us," said Ita. "What more could the Clan want?"

"But the stone is flawed..."

"It wasn't our job to make sure it stayed perfect, was it?"

"But we were to protect it..."

"He's coming," said Girvanna, who had been silently waiting at the window. She drew back as the door opened and Gaffer M'Covee walked in. He looked grim.

Ita and Sorcha jumped to their feet and rushed to his side.

"Well?"

"What did they say?"

"It wasn't good, was it?"

The Gaffer shook his head. "Nay, lassies. I'm sorry. It's banishment."

"WHAT?" Ita raged. "Banishment? Over a wee little crack?!"

"It's more than the crack," said the Gaffer. "The stone... aye, she's changed now... deadlier than ever, if ye can reckon it. In that, ye failed the trust of the Clan..."

"AUGH!" Ita kicked over the table and turned back to the old man. "What more were we supposed t'do, then?! We risked our lives t'protect this bloody Hell Stone!"

"If ye'd only tell the truth about what happened, they might have been more lenient!" thundered the Gaffer. He and Ita glared at one another, then Ita turned away once more.

"We canna say anymore, we told ye that..."

"Aye," said the Gaffer. "I'm sure ye had your reasons... Aside from the stone, there's also the matter of the sword. 'Twas a dear ransom ye paid, whatever it was for."

"We know, grandad..." said Girvanna. "But we dinna have a choice."

"Be that as it may, the decision stands. 'Twas handed down from the Oracle herself. Ye three and the entire Order are cast out from the Clan, to be sent t' Germany."

"For how long?" said Sorcha quietly.

"Until the Al Ma'tal return," said the Gaffer.

"Forever, then," said Girvanna.

"To be fair, she dinna say that."

"But for us, I doubt it matters," said Ita. "What about the Winter's Heart? How will the Clan protect it now?"

"We'll lose it," said the Gaffer with determination. "Throw it in the deepest crack o' the earth. Start stories of its evil so folk will never look for it. In a thousand years, nae anyone will remember it ever existed, nae even the Clan. It's the only way it will ever truly be safe."

Ita nodded. "Ye shoulda done that in the first place..."

The Gaffer sighed. "Aye, perhaps ye're right... perhaps ye're right, lassie... Now, rest yourselves easy. Ye canna travel 'til spring now, and for good or ill, your work is over."

He patted their heads and tried to soothe their tears with a few comforting words. Ita would have none of it, and she stayed awake long after the Gaffer left and her sisters went to bed, long after her mother and father came home and she had to deal with their tears and consolation.

Silently she vowed that even in exile, in whatever forsaken German country they landed in, she would keep the Order alive. She would make sure that her daughters and grand-daughters, and her sisters' daughters, and the daughters of all of those in their Order who had the necessary talent, would be taught to use their powers, and made ready for the day the Al Ma'tal returned and they would return to the Clan.

But until the day she died, Ita never spoke of the Winter's Heart again.

[fade to white; roll credits]