The initial impact knocked Donal's shield back into his head. The dog’s weight drove him backwards into the ground, and its weight pressed the shield against his head once more. Still, Donal was grateful for it; that enchanted piece of wood was the only thing that kept the beast from digging at and biting his head.

  Two squelched thuds rocked the hound and forced it to lean on Donal’s left side. Two more slices caused the hound to help and stop digging.

  Few things could survive four unchecked strikes from a sword. Donal couldn’t assume it was enough to finish the hound. Maura had put herself within range of the unpredictable lunges of a dying creature.

  With the shield pressed against his head and his hands by his face, Donal had no natural leverage to help her. He kicked at the hound’s hind legs hoping to distract it. The beast’s movement slowed when Donal made contact.

  He attempted to clear his head to find some imbáulad inspiration, but Donal’s head was throbbing from two strikes of his shield. He raised his elbows as high as he could and slammed them to the ground as he pushed upward on his buckler. The effort gained him little advantage. The wolf stepped on his left leg.

  That’s it.

  He raised his elbows once more and slammed them down. This time when he pushed upward, he shifted his body to the right a few inches.

  He heard no additional sword strikes from Maura—nor any cries of pain from her. His feet were hot. His body was in a full sweat.

  One more.

  He slammed his elbows onto the ground. This time, however, he pushed the hound to the left. The beast’s weight shifted. It was still upon him, but he had more leverage. Maura’s brogues approached from the right. Another blow, but not like before. The force against the hound continued. The hound leaned away from her, giving Donal the chance to tip it over with a final push on his buckler.

  He raised himself to his knees and surveyed the field. A wall of fire blocked the entire width of the pass, its flames nearly as high as the hills that bounded it.

  What in the hell happened?

  He turned back to check on his sorcerers. Brendan stood in the middle of the pass circling one hand around the other. Maeve stood five feet in front of him, her eyes sliding from the far left to the far right.

  “Maura?” Donal asked as he stood and turned back toward her. “Are you alright?”

  “Myself?” she said with a chuckle. “As if I were the one setting myself up to be pummeled by strange beasts.”

  Donal looked at the hound Maura laid low and found his spear lodged in its ribs. He knitted his brow and looked back at Maura.

  “That’s a fine weapon you have there,” she said. “You ought to use it once in a while.”

  Donal looked back at the other dog lying on its side. It was breathing but motionless.

  “I was too busy flipping that one with just a buckler,” Donal said. “Or did you miss that?”

  “It was impressive, no doubt about it,” Maura said. “Until you almost died from being too impressed with yourself.”

  “Ah here—”

  “Sure look, children,” Ciara said. “We still have a living hound over there, two witches ready to fly over Brendan’s fiery wall, and two more likely giving the sister and the druid all they can handle. Stop your bickering and form up.”

  “Neimnígid,” screamed someone from behind the flame wall. The wall collapsed directly in front of the witch who cast the spell. The rest of the faded as if a wave of water had washed across it.

  Donal noticed the second witch had advanced on their left and was readying her next spell. He flicked Maura on the arm to get her attention and dashed toward the witch.

  “How?” Brendan yelled, lamenting his breached flame wall. “It’s not how that spell works!”

  “Sai?et gealáin,” the other witch yelled, pushing her hands toward Brendan.

  Brendan was too far back. The bolt of lightning would travel over Donal’s head. He raised his buckler in time for the bolt to strike its metal center.

  Donal’s entire body twisted as his muscles contracted. His teeth clamped onto the left side of his tongue. He felt surge of energy run down his arm into his core and down through his legs. His body relaxed and every muscle instantly felt weak for a few seconds.

  “What was that?” Maura asked.

  “Lightning,” Donal said through clenched teeth as he reset his shield arm.

  “I’d clatter you if I were sure I wouldn’t get shocked,” she said. “Of course it was lightning. Why did you try to catch it?”

  “Brendan left himself exposed,” Donal said. “My shield and coat protect me a light amount from it. That’s why I had you follow me.”

  “So you’re not hurt?”

  “I wouldn’t say—”

  She gave him a soft shove in the back.

  “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Well, you left me exposed a bit when you raised your shield, didn’t ya?”

  The witch on the right slung several spells attempting to circumvent Ciara’s shield in front of Brendan. All broke or faded against her purple barrier.

  “What can you do to help?” Donal asked.

  “It’s not like we trained daily for combat,” Maura said. “We mess around in the woods sometimes when we get bored, or in a pinch if we get caught in the wrong part of the woods.”

  “Galraigid,” the witch on the left yelled, a green flash of light broke against Donal’s shield.

  “Are you telling me this is the right part of the woods?” Donal asked. “Can you do anything to hit that wan from here?”

  “She’s forty yards away,” Maura said. “I didn’t exactly bring a bow, did I?”

  “Then we have to wait until either Brendan and Ciara or Siobhan and Brigid are done with their fights.”

  Maura paused for a moment. For the first time since the fight started, Donal heard Siobhan yell. A thunderclap rolled toward him before he had the chance to worry whether her yell was out of pain.

  “There’s something I used to do when the kids in town played in the woods,” Maura said. “The kids hated it. Threatened to stop playing with me if I kept doing it.”

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  “Is it deadly?”

  Another poke. “What kind of kids' games do you folks play in íriu?”

  “Then why mention—” Donal said. “—just, what would you be needing from me to make this fool trick work?”

  “Keep her attention,” Maura said. “When I make my move, charge at her.”

  Maura leaned forward and rocked back on her heels before squatting into a half-crouch. “Ready yourself,” she said. She inhaled slowly. “Rúac gáe?!”

  A breeze blew up Donal’s back. A soft whistling sound trailed to his left. By the time he turned his head to locate the source Maura was standing beside a hill behind the witch’s right-hand side. The hag heard the rush of air as well and started to scan the field in front of her.

  Donal shook his head, raised his spear and sprinted toward the witch. He held the buckler in front of his face to glance at Maura. She leaned back, hung for a second and then disappeared. Donal’s gait hung to the point he almost tripped over his own feet. A human form appeared atop the hill directly behind the witch.

  The hag heard Maura’s arrival and started turning away from him.

  I throw the spear, I’m likely to hit Maura, Donal thought. He sighed and moved his buckler, opening his chest to the next lightning bolt or green flash the witch would choose to cast. He let out a sustained yell as he ran, mimicking the Norse berserkers he’d been told about in stories carried north from Dublin.

  The witch sneered and turned back to face Donal, pulled her hands back and sneered. “Galr—”

  The tips of two swords protruded from her chest. The hag blurted a gargled cry of pain as she grabbed the higher of the two blades that impaled her.

  Maura grunted and used her weapons to leverage the witch to the ground on her right. She retracted her weapons and wiped the blades clean. “Well?” she asked, the right side of her mouth upturned. “Got anything to say about my display?”

  Donal closed his mouth and shrugged as naturally as he could manage. “Sure,” he said, keeping his expression flat. “I can see why the other children didn’t want to play with you.”

  The smirk faded from Maura’s face as she wrinkled her brow. “A fine thing to say to someone!”

  Oh no, Donal thought. “I meant—”

  “—I know too well what you meant. It’s written on your face.”

  “Maura—”

  “—Let’s go,” she said with a shake of her head. She jogged toward Brendan and Ciara, slowing only to knock her left shoulder into Donal’s along the way.

  Donal turned and followed, assessing the field on his way over. Maura’s attack must have left her winded; he passed her and was first to approach the other two.

  “This isn’t working,” Ciara said. “I can do more than make a bleedin’ shield, you know.”

  “Of course you can,” Brendan said. “The problem is that yer wan over there is throwing lightning and other fast-flying spells and negating anything I throw back. Your method of shielding is quicker than mine.”

  He looked at Ciara and nodded. “I’ll go far to the left and give her a big target. Let’s hope the next one’s not lightning.”

  “Thank you,” Ciara said.

  Brendan ran from behind Ciara as far left as he could manage. The witch sent fire and hexes after him, but they fell ahead of and behind him. He twisted his body to slide to a stop, ready to raise his earthen shield. His left toes snagged on a boulder and his body fell over his ankle in a heap.

  Donal caught the look in the hag’s eye and sprinted for his comrade. He squatted in front of Brendan, making himself as small of a target as he could. He didn’t hear the invocation but the familiar sting traveling down his arm confirmed he had correctly guessed the witch’s next spell.

  “Howya, Brendan?”

  “I’m not sure if I broke my ankle,” Brendan said, “but I can’t imagine it feeling any worse. That’s two I owe you, lad.”

  “You’re the only one counting,” Donal said.

  You know he’s not, Shadow muttered in his mind.

  “You felled your crone already?”

  “Maura did,” Donal said. “I might be next on her list.”

  Brendan smiled. “We are, all of us, on someone else’s list.” His face tightened as he scanned Donal. “Are you sure you’re fine? Your gear doesn’t appear to stop as much lightning as you pretend.”

  “Then I’d ask you to stay back,” Donal said.

  Ciara shouted something, but the sensory overload flowing through Donal’s nerves prevented him from understanding what the spell was until a bright blast heated the night. He heard the impact against the witch. A solitary scream echoed off the hills before he heard something land with a thud.

  “You can come out now, Brendan,” Ciara said. “You’re safe again.” She looked at Donal’s head rising over his buckler and shook her head. “Where would you be, diviner, without someone standing in front—”

  As she processed what she saw behind Donal, she stopped her approach. The wrinkles beside her eyes and nose straightened. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Brendan twisted his body toward her and smiled. With a soft shrug, her smile returned, as did her jabs.

  “Dya’sleep through the whole thing?” she asked.

  “Donal’s not much of a talker,” Brendan said.

  Donal pulled Brendan’s arm around his neck and stabilized him. “Take him,” he told Ciara as he transferred Brendan’s weight to her. “I’m going to go mind the other hound.”

  He ran to the far side of the field. The beast was gone. He knelt over the ground where it had laid. No pools of blood and no trail of it for Donal to follow. He stood up and scanned the pass. A shadow lumbered low between two hills on the left. Donal held his spear over his head as he neared the hound, but it collapsed onto its right side.

  A low rumble sounded once Donal entered the dog’s periphery but its head did not move. He scanned the beast once more. No wounds, no obvious deformities from broken limbs. He lowered his spear.

  The hound jerked the muscles on its upper jaw, flashing its teeth with every step Donal took, relaxing when Donal paused between steps.

  Is this even necessary anymore? he thought.

  It was coming for you, Maura, and the rest not five minutes ago, Shadow told him. Spare it and you’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of the journey.

  Donal dropped to his knees ten feet in front of the hound. The dog lifted its head and attempted to turn away from him. When the rest of its body wouldn’t respond the head surrendered and returned to the ground.

  “Sorry about your master,” Donal said. He sighed. “I’m not actually. She wanted to hurt my friends.”

  The animal’s eyes rose from the ground up to meet Donal’s but it made no movement or sound.

  “Was she good to you?”

  Shadow cackled from the back of his head. How have you survived this long? You’re softer than a rotten apple and only half as useful.

  “Sure look, I can’t tell how you’re hurt, but it doesn’t look serious. If I bring my friend over to heal you, the others might want to finish you off like I was supposed to.”

  It is a dog! Shadow yelled inside his head. What do you expect it to say?

  Shut your gob! Donal thought. This is better than any conversation you and I have ever had.

  Donal bared his own teeth reflexively as he yelled at Shadow, prompting the dog to utter a noise that started as a growl and ended as a whimper.

  “Sorry,” Donal told the animal. “I know you don’t know what I’m saying. I think you’re wobbly from hitting your head.”

  He raised his hand and slid himself forward in two motions. The hound’s head retreated, its chin touching its chest. Donal lowered his hand. The dog immediately brought its head forward.

  Surely you don’t have time for this, Shadow told him.

  Donal nodded to himself. It was a rare moment when Shadow was right. He shifted to the side and pointed to the hills behind him. “I truly hope you can made into these hills before my people come back through here. I’ll tell them it was there I ended you.”

  He stood up and looked the hound over once more. “I’m trusting that you won’t come back and try to eat us.” He shrugged and thought of Ciara. “At least, not most of us. We go our separate ways, hai? Maybe tell your friends we’re not so bad?”

  The animal didn’t react.

  “Right,” Donal said. “That’s on me. Please go hide.”

  After a final survey of the animal, Donal turned and ran back to Ciara and Brendan. He looked for Siobhan and Maura but found neither. “Maura? Where’d you run off to?”

  “Here,” she yelled back toward the location of the first attack. “I went to find Siobhan and Brigid to even our numbers.”

  “And?” Donal asked.

  “Long since won their battle,” Maura said. “They each took a hilltop to spot any additional surprises. They’re coming back now.”

  “Good,” Donal said. “Herself can mend Brendan’s ankle. His brogue’s about to pop off.”

  She scoffed. “And what about yourself?”

  “What about me?”

  Maura turned to Ciara. “Can you hold Brendan for a moment?”

  Brendan dropped and raised a hand, invoking a spell to raise a stool from the earth behind the men. “Allow me.” He slid onto the seat and straightened his injured leg.

  Maura stepped to him, the top of her head an inch or two above his chin. “Bend down. Let me have a look at that empty head of yours.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me,” Donal said. I’m no more hurt than Brendan.”

  “You’re not walking a straight line, your right cheek and ear are covered in blood and your eyes have a faraway look to them,” Maura said. “You’re going to wait here next to your friend until the ladies return. We’ll figure out what to do next.”

  No doubt about it, Donal thought. She’s Niall’s daughter.

  Brendan raised his hand and produced another earthen seat for Donal. “You’d better listen if you want off her list.”