He glanced up. “Do I?”
“Aye.” He felt seen beneath that gaze. Those eyes, gilded and hot, held all the emotion the druid was too unwilling to name.
But he tried, anyway.
“When I… when I was younger,” he whispered, “I watched the Listeners. I saw how they did not return. I thought it was a cruel ask. We tend the land… keep its spirit alive… but to it, we are nothing more than fodder.”
The words tasted bitter on his tongue, and his eyes darted to his kin in fear that they had heard.
“The land can be unforgiving,” said the Vaich. “Even to those that love it best.”
The druid nodded. “It is foolish to ask for leniency. Yet, suddenly, I become more aware of why one invokes the gods. They plead because they need hope… because they need to believe they will be spared. But the land does not care. It sings, and we listen.”
“Do you always deny yourself comfort?”
The druid sputtered. “W-what?”
“It must get exhausting.”
“I don’t—”
“Right.” The Vaich watched the flame. “You’re coming back with me. That was the agreement.”
The druid watched him.
“So have your communion. Get your answers. And then return, as you promised.”
The words were certain, but not cold. It wasn’t a demand.
It was a prayer.
The night deepened. The stars were nearing convergence, burning high in the sky over the Fáoth. As Belthín reached its peak, the last of the rites was made. The twin fires burned, and the able ones came and walked between.
As they went, the Fíor called out a blessing, “An Túr im ár lontha, an cárth im ár sídan. Nó tríath, nó bráidhe, nó Túr a ghléam.”
The druid whispered to the king, “It is an appeal to the spirits to grant fertility.”
The Vaich chuckled. “They’ll need more than flame to ripen those bellies. Not a bull in sight. It’ll be slim pickings when the rut takes hold.”
The druid released a puff of air. “How vulgar.”
“Come lads,” called the Fíor. “You are young and full of life. Come pass between the flames.”
They went still as stone, but the elder waved them near.
“Cannae ye tell him to let us be?” muttered the Vaich.
“That would be rude.”
“You were always rude to me!”
“Yes, but you deserved it.”
“Lads?”
The two rose awkwardly, facing the burning heat.
“Well,” said the Vaich, “no harm in a blessing for bairns. My queen will need all the help he can get.”
