Ivy stopped and looked at the empty cave entrance. "They're gone, aren't they?" She turned to Tara.
The Druid nodded. "Yes, I knew it when we found the dolmen deserted."
"So our journey was in vain? I rushed from Aillwee to the Twelve Bens for nothing?"
"I thought he would wait for us. I misjudged the situation. They have become stronger, faster!"
"Do you still trust Áthair Faolchu?" Ivy asked, surprised.
The Druid hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, I do, but I don't know how much power still rests in his hands."
"Then do you think he's still here? Did the pack leave without him?"
Tara shrugged. "I can't say. I promised him we'd be here before the new moon."
"That was at midnight."
The Druid nodded. "Yes, at midnight. More than two hours ago."
"Then let's go check. Maybe we haven't lost yet." Ivy strode confidently toward the cave entrance, Seymour by her side. Tara followed. The mare had left them at the cromlech before the ascent became too steep. Ivy placed her hand on Seymour's neck. Sometimes it was comforting to feel him and keep their mental connection even stronger. She trusted that his instincts would enhance their vigilance even more. Ivy was aware of the danger she was facing. The deadline had passed, and no one could predict how the werewolves, whose old anger toward the vampires had been reignited, would react. From Ivy's perspective, it was the werewolves who had broken the pact, but with this argument, they were unlikely to be appeased.
Ivy summoned a bat to better perceive her surroundings. The entire cave system smelled strongly of predators. It was as if the emotions of generations had seeped into the stone. The fine notes of joy and affection were overlaid with the sharper scents of hate and anger.
That shouldn't have happened. Not as long as we exist in this world. That's why the pact was made.
A wave of anger surged in Ivy, swirling through her soul. It was her decision, yes, and she still stood by the sacrifice. But now she had to wonder what it had achieved. It had all been in vain.
You never felt it as a sacrifice. It was your free choice and mine. No one forced us. Remember!
Ivy was unable to conjure the memory. She felt empty and drained, her gaze fixed on the stone pedestal where the cloch adhair had rested just a few hours ago. She could still feel it, even now, although its rays had faded like the setting sun in the evening.
"They have indeed left the Twelve Bens," Ivy said, her voice toneless as if in shock. "They have taken the cloch adhair away from here."
Tara stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "As I feared. But do not despair. Not all is lost. There are always new paths that unexpectedly open to us."
"If only we had been here two hours earlier," Ivy continued, as if she hadn't heard the Druid's words.
"If they hadn't followed us and stopped us, we might have arrived on time!"
Tara gently put her arm around Ivy's shoulder. "My dear child, you mustn't blame your friends. They wanted to help you and protect you."
"They wanted to satisfy their curiosity!"
"Well, maybe that too," the Druid admitted. "But isn't that quite natural for vampires of their age? The important thing is that they didn't want to harm you."
"The important thing is that they harmed us!"
"They are your friends! A Nosferas, a Vamalia, and even a Dracas. Isn't that wonderful? After just one year? It exceeds my wildest hopes."
Ivy roughly shook off the Druid's arm and stepped aside. "What good is it to us if the young vampires make peace while the werewolves go to war for a flimsy reason! We don't even know how Peregrine really died. Maybe his killers weren't vampires; maybe he deserved to die."
"Yes, it's a shame I didn't get to see his body. I might have seen more clearly then."
"That wouldn't help us now either." Seymour whimpered. She turned abruptly to the wolf. "What were you thinking, not immediately stopping the fight? And don't claim you didn't recognize them right away!"
Alisa wasn't harmed, and Luciano got himself into this predicament. How could he even think of reverting to his wolf form in such a situation, where he probably couldn't manage it even under normal circumstances without outside help!
"He didn't try it intentionally. He was in panic!" Seymour rolled his eyes. "But you don't need to deflect. You allowed Cameron to bite Franz Leopold. He could have seriously injured him!"
Franz Leopold bit Cameron!
"Oh, and now you want to convince me that this was a fair fight? An experienced Lycana against a fourteen-year-old Dracas who was transforming into a wolf for the first time?" Seymour fell silent and turned away as if the topic didn't interest him.
"I'm talking to you!"
It was a lesson this Dracas needed! It can only do him good if someone trims his proud crest a bit.
"He is very devoted to you," the Druid interjected. "I saw it in his eyes."
Ivy lowered her eyelids. "The Dracas despise all other families."
The old woman smiled wisely. "That may be true in theory, and perhaps he's not yet fully aware of the feelings awakening within him. But I advise you to be careful. It may only be a spark now. But if the fire spreads, it can consume both of you." The white wolf growled. "And Seymour here is a little jealous because he senses the growing affection, isn't that right?" Tara stroked his head, ignoring his threateningly bared teeth.
"He has no reason and no right to be jealous!" Ivy exclaimed passionately. "He is supposed to protect me and otherwise stay back. Who is he to act as judge over my life and my decisions?"
Before the Druid could reply, Seymour emitted a warning growl and leaped to Ivy's side. Tara and Ivy noticed the sound at the same moment and spun around. A stone-gray wolf, old and shaggy, sat in a passageway, observing them with watery eyes. Seymour positioned himself between him and the two women, baring his fangs. The old wolf rose and retreated into the safety of the passage. Before Ivy and Tara had decided whether to follow him, a man entered the cave, his appearance as pitiful as his wolf form.
"I heard voices that shouldn't be here," he said somewhat indistinctly. "You're late, Tara. Áthair Faolchu was not pleased. He thought he could stop the boulder before it reached the steep slope and - faster and faster - downhill, sweeping away everything in its path." He opened his mouth in a kind of grin, revealing his few stumps of teeth.
"Yes, fate was against us," the Druid admitted.
"Fate!" The old man spat on the ground. "It's always easy to blame fate. How convenient to moan while sitting back and doing nothing, idle hands in your lap."
"We don't intend to sit idle!" Ivy retorted. "A pact was made between werewolves, Druids, and vampires, and it's time we reminded the werewolves that they must also abide by it!"
The old man flashed his toothless grin again. "Ah, we're getting to the heart of the matter. The werewolves say it was the vampires who broke the oath." He narrowed his eyes and glanced from Ivy to Seymour. "Not just today and with Peregrine's death, but from the beginning!"
"Then they should have convened the Grand Council to discuss and resolve the misunderstandings," the Druid replied calmly. "Taking the cloch adhair away to hide it from us is a poor way. The day of the handover is approaching!"
"Yes, the young ones are impulsive and don't think properly," the old man agreed. "But that's how the pups have always been. They played pranks, received their lesson, and matured from it."
"This is not a prank of young werewolves!" Ivy exclaimed. "They're taking the cloch adhair goodness knows where. They could go anywhere, and it might take decades or centuries to track it down again!"
"Anywhere with the cloch adhair? No! Child, what nonsense are you talking? Cool your anger, which clouds your thoughts. And vanish without a trace? No, certainly not!"
Ivy took a deep breath. How could she have been so blind? They had to set off immediately to follow the werewolves' trail. Every minute they lost here increased the distance.
"We have to go!" she urged, bowing briefly toward the old werewolf. "Thank you. Tara, come quickly, maybe we can still catch them!"
The Druid hesitated, looking from Ivy to the werewolf, then followed her through the passages back to the cave entrance.
"A sharp thought usually gets you to your destination faster than swift paws!" the old man called after them, but Ivy didn't listen to him anymore. Her mind was already on the werewolf pack's trail out there in the night, moving to hide the stone where the soul of the land resided in a new hiding place.
Their return journey took longer than the outward one. Not only because they saw no reason to hurry. Franz Leopold and Cameron were nursing their wounds, even though both tried not to show it. And Luciano seemed strangely drained, although his wound had already stopped bleeding. His gaze wandered blankly over the vast land. Perhaps the botched reversion had drained him of all his strength. Alisa trudged along behind her friends with her head down, and Taber admonished her several times to hurry up a bit. Physically, she was fine, but was that a reason to be in a good mood when they had failed so miserably? Being discovered, well, they had to expect that. And the possibility of a fight due to a misunderstanding didn't scare them either. But what gnawed at her deeply was Seymour's strange behavior and Ivy not standing up for her. How could she send the friends back after they had taken this long journey to assist her and the Druid? Seymour had betrayed their friendship, and so had Ivy.
"Alisa, don't dawdle like that! We want to reach Aughnanure before sunrise!"
She shot Taber a disgruntled look but quickened her steps. Soon the village loomed ahead of them, and to their right, the strangely bare mountainside that Alisa had noticed on the way there. Everywhere else, the slopes were covered with heather, shrubs, and in the lowlands, marsh grass, but here it looked as if a giant creature had ripped open the hillside with a massive claw swipe. Actually, Alisa was too outraged to exchange a single word with her guards, but curiosity got the better of her, so she fell back to Taber and gestured to the bare rock.
"That's the spoil from the Glengowla Mine," he said curtly.
"Ah, I've heard of it. People mine ores there to extract metal."
"Yes, they used to strip the land of its protective cloak, cut down its trees, and ship them to England until only the moor remained, barely enough to feed a few sheep. Now they're splitting the island's stony heart in two, dividing it into ore and spoil, leaving it like a discarded carcass."
"Ivy says Connemara marble is the soul of Ireland," Alisa laughed uncertainly.
"You don't understand?" Taber said with an aggressive undertone.
Alisa shrugged. "Not entirely."
"Then I'll explain it to you." Taber stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. His expression was friendlier now. "Every living being, whether human, plant, or animal, draws its strength from the earth and the sun. We belong to the few beings that can't draw their energy from the sun. Instead, it destroys us. That's why we rely so much on the earth. In the time of the Celts, the Druids knew the places of fertile energy and knew how to use them. They were sacred places or regions. Today, people have forgotten to listen to their senses. But we still draw our strength from these places by becoming one with nature: when we transform into another creature or dissolve into it for a while, shapelessly traveling with the wind. Look down the valley winding to the northwest. Here, there's a band of marble and ores running all the way to Clifden on the coast. One narrow lake follows another. In contrast, the mountains on both sides are made of granite. But this marble that emerges here has been attracting and preserving the energy of the surroundings for millennia. An inexhaustible source of power! - If people don't smash it piece by piece and cart it away from here. You turned into wolves. Was that ever possible for you before? And if so, was it so easy? You were as fast as the wind! Have you ever run like this before, without getting tired? This is the power Connemara gifts you!"
Alisa looked disappointed. "So was it only possible here? Yes, I was surprised and delighted that we made such rapid progress. Does that mean we won't be able to repeat this elsewhere?"
The older vampire smiled. "No, that's not what it means. You have now understood how it's done, and it will become easier for you with each time. You'll learn to sense even the weak energy fields of the earth and make use of them. But now come on, the others have almost reached the village."
He ran so fast that Alisa couldn't follow him, even though she had never run faster. The wind tugged at her hair, and she felt so powerful yet also light, as if she were a leaf driven by the storm wind. A shout rose in her throat. Soon they had caught up with the others.
"I wouldn't know there's a reason to be so cheerful," Franz Leopold greeted her with a look of disgust.
Alisa remained silent. If he couldn't feel it, how could she explain it to him?
Back in Aughnanure, they were met with a trial, which didn't surprise any of the three. What was annoying, however, was that they had to undertake it without really learning or achieving anything.
"We might as well have stayed here," Luciano grumbled.
"At least Franz Leopold is a few bite wounds richer," Alisa added with a grimace.
He glared at her but said nothing as Catriona was currently inspecting his injuries. Aside from the gaping wound on his leg, he only had scratches that were already crusted over. However, fresh blood still oozed from the leg wound.
"Let your leg be bandaged and drink an extra portion to help it heal faster. Luciano, you should also drink more than usual, then your weakness will soon pass."
Luciano couldn't hide his grin completely. He had probably feared getting nothing as punishment. But before they were released to join the others in the hall, Donnchadh unleashed his thunderstorm upon them.
Alisa folded her hands and lowered her gaze. This posture had always proved effective during sermons. At least it wouldn't further enrage the leader of the Lycana. Luciano followed her example. Franz Leopold, however, stood proudly and defiantly stared at the clan leader. His behavior did none of them any favors. He only made it worse by taking the floor without being asked.
"Do you want to know why we did this? Or are you just interested in venting your anger on us?" Alisa rolled her eyes. They would all have to suffer the consequences of this later!
Donnchadh stared at Franz Leopold, who used the Lycana's surprise to continue speaking.
"We followed Ivy and the Druid to assist them. You sent them two escorts, well, that's something at least. But considering a group of strange vampires has been following us since Dunluce, and the looming war of the werewolves, we felt the protective measures were inadequate. Friends are meant to stand by each other in times of danger. This is such a time, and it's irresponsible that we were not only sent back like children but Ivy and the Druid were also stripped of their two escorts!"
Donnchadh was speechless and cast a pleading glance at Catriona. Alisa felt as if the Lycana was smiling, but then her face became expressionless, the picture of a loyal servant.
Donnchadh cleared his throat. "Those are surely noble motives. But you can believe me that we don't expose any of our Lycana to danger lightly, and certainly not Ivy. So you don't need to fear for her. It's not your job to decide, but mine, so you will follow the instructions I give in the future and not leave without my permission."
"What would be the punishment if we disobey?" Franz Leopold wanted to know. His audacious courage seemed to surprise Donnchadh.
"I reserve the right to send you back to your families and declare your training in Ireland finished."
Alisa was filled with a deep shock. That must not happen under any circumstances. Not only was there nothing more important than learning as much as possible and training their abilities, but the thought of being separated from the others filled her with panic. How she would miss them: Luciano and his cousin Chiara, Malcolm, and of course Ivy and Seymour, even though she was currently angry with them, the two Pyras who had become loyal companions despite their rough demeanor, in whose company Tammo was usually found for good reason. Mervyn and the little, always dreamy Rowena. With astonishment, Alisa realized that she would miss Franz Leopold too. She widened her eyes and stared at him.
"A frightening thought, isn't it?" he whispered to her.
Apparently, he had once again managed to intrude unnoticed into her mind. A strange smile played around his mouth and rose to his dark eyes. Fortunately, Donnchadh continued speaking, diverting her attention to his words.
"Now go inside and let yourselves be replenished with blood. You will stay in the tower until it's time to seek the coffins. The day is not far off. In two hours, the sun will rise."
"Will Ivy and Seymour return by then?" Luciano asked timidly. "If not, where will they find a safe refuge?"
Donnchadh looked at him. "No, I don't believe they can reach Aughnanure today. They will spend the day under the protection of the caves of the Twelve Bens."
"You need not worry," Catriona added softly. Then she led them up into the hall.
Seymour and the Druid's two wolves paced back and forth in front of the cave entrance, noses close to the ground, until they found the right trail amidst the tangle of scents. The three howled in unison once they were sure. Ivy rushed to them.
"Tara, come! Hurry, they already have too much of a head start." The Druid looked up at the night sky with concern but said nothing. "They're heading north over the pass."
Tara nodded. "As long as we're in the mountains, Álainn won't be of any use to me, but once we reach the valley, I'll need her services."
"With or without a horse, Seymour and I are much faster!"
"I know, my child. Even the powers of a Druid have limits. I cannot travel on the wings of an eagle. You go ahead with Seymour. I will follow your trail with Geal's help. I will send Ciallmhar to the Dolmen to guide Álainn around the Twelve Bens to the north. They shall await me at the foot of the mountain."
"Alright, then let's begin the search."
"Ivy!"
"Yes?"
"When you find them, come back. You will not approach them! Promise me. I still trust Áthair Faolchu, but there are too many among them who are not well-disposed towards us."
Ivy reluctantly gave the requested promise. Then she urged Seymour to follow the trail as fast as he could. She herself transformed into a falcon to soar high above him and oversee the mountainside. Tara watched her until she could no longer make her out in the night sky. Then she tightened her grip on her staff and set off with Geal to follow Seymour.
Ivy climbed up to the pass and peered down the northern slope, but could see no movement. So she returned to Seymour and circled widely above him. Ivy repeatedly dove down to the wolf, whose white fur she could easily discern even if the trail led him through thickets.
Are we getting closer to them? That was the pressing question.
They are moving fast. I cannot say yet.
Ivy flew back to the pass. Impatiently, she soared along the ridge until Seymour finally crossed it. Can't you run a little faster?
No, I cannot! I must stay on the trail. Your impatience won't help us find them sooner. What's wrong with you, Ivy? Where is your composure that I've always admired in you? The friendly smile with which you were able to master any difficult situation?
Ivy landed on a rocky ledge. You're right to reprimand me. Losing my composure is unforgivable. It won't happen again. The disappearance of the stone has affected me more than I thought possible. Seymour growled.
What?
Are you sure it's the stone that's unsettling you and not this Dracas?
Yes, I am! And I don't want to hear any more about this topic! The falcon soared into the air until it was no longer visible.
You didn't want to lose your composure anymore!
He was sure his thoughts reached her, but she refused to respond. Seymour shook himself and then focused again on the scent ahead of him. The werewolves must have run very fast. Although he had crossed the pass and left half of the mountainside behind him, he suspected he was not getting any closer to them. Should he force Ivy to turn back and send her back to the cave at the summit? Where else could she safely spend the day? He couldn't rely on Tara's advice. She was far behind and probably hadn't even reached the ridge yet. Seymour ran even faster, although the slope was steep and slippery. And he wondered if this path was leading them straight into disaster.