Tír na nÓg Trilogy, Book II: The Rising Dark

Samhain

The night arrived cold and crystal clear. All the residents of Dun-Dealgan were preparing for the revelries and ceremonies of Samhain. When dusk fell, Oonagh explained, everyone would put out their hearthfires; every light would be extinguished. Then they'd all head out of the fort and into the fields beyond, where a huge bonfire would be roaring. They'd dance and tell fortunes and drink and feast and all of it would be in disguise, and then toward the end, they'd take flames from the bonfire to relight their hearthfires with the new year's warmth. Everything began in darkness--the world, the year, the day, life . . . light was the end, but dark was the beginning. Samhain was the celebration of the new year. This was the third and final day of Samhain, the only one the girls wanted to risk venturing out for. If they were to be caught, they wanted it to be for the most exciting of the three nights.

They'd worked hard on disguises, and they'd worked equally hard to keep those disguises hidden from Cathbad. The druid had come by three times to check on Emery, but thankfully, he'd been largely busy with Samhain, so he hadn't been able to linger long with them.

Tess didn't like hiding anything from Cathbad, Emery could tell, and all three girls knew the man would be adamantly opposed to them leaving the fort. "Unless he specifically asks you whether we're trying to sneak out and you tell him no, you aren't lying," Oonagh told her. "You just aren't telling him anything at all. There's no harm in it." That didn't quite soothe Tess, and Emery felt some guilt for that, but when she tried to tell Tess nevermind to it all, she'd stay behind, Tess had been appalled at the thought.

After all was said and done, the three were determined to go out, have a good time, and come home. They would stick together like glue, link arms or hold hands if they had to, and there'd be so many people there that if anyone tried something, the girls would have help.

"What sort of sacrifices has Cathbad been making?" Emery asked, making some last-minute touch-ups on her cloak. Each of them had taken one of the several cloaks that had been in Emery's trunk and layered furs or feathers onto it with rows of stitching. They'd stayed up much of the last two nights to complete the job.

Emery expected Tess to answer her question about Cathbad, but she didn't, so Oonagh jumped in, sure she understood the girl's hesitation. "Our druid is an honorable one. He doesn't believe in the human sacrifices. Some say it weakens us, but Lord Cuchulain's the strongest man alive, and Dun-Dealgan's the safest place outside of Emain Macha, so we're doing just fine, if I might say so."

"I remember him telling me he wouldn't participate in a human sacrifice," Emery said quietly. "I'm glad he doesn't." She glanced at Tess, trying to read her thoughts.

Tess had selected the brightest feathers of the bunch (which were mostly white and speckled chicken feathers) and created a sort of headpiece to cover her short hair and make it look longer. "Cat and I talked about it," she finally commented, distractedly working with a difficult feather that did not want to lie flat. "I don't like that animals have to die. But I understand that this is what they do here, what they believe in. If he didn't make these offerings, people would be confused and afraid. We--I'm fine with it. I understand it."

Emery didn't believe Tess for a minute, but she let it go. It wasn't her relationship.

"In Dun-Cethern, I hear they use the wicker man," Oonagh said darkly, leaning in as if sinister forces might hear them.

"Cethern? Like the Red Branch Knight? Cethern mac Fintan?" Emery remembered that one; he'd terrified her with his toothy grin and always-clenched fists. "What's a wicker man?"

"They build a giant man of wicker, and they stuff it full of humans--criminals, if they can, but if not, anyone will do--and they burn it all up."

"With everyone inside?" Emery was horrified when Oonagh nodded in confirmation. Tess didn't seem particularly surprised, which told Emery Cathbad had probably tried to assuage her dislike of his own sacrifices by telling her about the worse ones performed elsewhere. "Well," Emery added, "I'm thrilled that our druid has a good heart. I can't imagine anyone better than Cat." She caught Tess's demure smile and was satisfied.