“On both sides.”
“Aye. At least one, at all times, who has the gift of sensing a change in them. We have Fey who chose other worlds, but Fey they are, and they’ll stand. We’ll send travelers through, portal to portal, to see if he means to go through another world to get here.”
“The portals won’t be a secret and sacred trust,” Mahon pointed out. “The council may try to block the strategy that reveals them all.”
Keegan just raised his eyebrows. “Have you met my mother?”
With a laugh, Mahon lifted his hands. “You’re right, of course. It’s this one…” He circled his finger above the forest on the map. “It’s a worry.”
“It is, aye, it is. Why would a portal lose its light? And why is there no story or song about such a thing?”
“A time before time,” Harken said. “A time before Talamh made its choice, before magicks were scorned or persecuted? And if its purpose became the dark, would it lose its light?”
“We’ll put scholars on such matters, but that’s my thinking. Did Odran choose a world to make his own with only one way in and out? Or did he take it, as we’ve never found another portal leading there, because of this?”
“Two portals at the Capital,” Breen said, “and both in the forest? Both to the dark? It’s the only place I see on the map where two are—or may be—so close together.”
“Could they be connected? That’s what you’re thinking,” Morena said. “The locks on the portal to banishment, to the Dark World, have never been breached. But if this is somehow part of it, or connected, could he open both?”
“Fear.” Marg looked up from the map. “It may have been fear of what stood behind the portal that stopped those from long ago from recording it, from speaking of it. Perhaps they themselves destroyed it somehow to keep what they fear on the other side. Or what lived on the other side was so dark it swallowed the light.”
“It’s said Odran fell into the Dark World when cast out,” Aisling reminded them. “And wandered there century by century until he found his way out.”
“And this may have been his way.” Keegan nodded. “Scholars will scour the great library for any mention of this. If I were planning to attack, what better place to destroy than the Capital, what he sees as the power source of Talamh?”
“It’s not,” Harken said, “only the symbol of its laws and its justice. The power of Talamh is its heart.”
“He’ll never take its heart. Sedric.”
“I’ll go, aye, of course. I’ll do my best to find it. Not so young as I once was, but wiser.”
“We’ll go.” Marg took his hand. “I can help with this. You’ll look after what’s mine while I’m gone, Taoiseach.”
“I will.”
“The boys are up. I hear them,” Aisling said as she rose. “I’ll take them home, away from plots of wars.”
“I’ll need Mahon awhile longer.”
“I know.” She ran her fingers down Mahon’s warrior’s braid, kept her other on the child growing inside her. “I’m with you on this, mo dheartháir. Be sure of it.”
As Aisling went out, Breen rose. “If I could have just a few minutes to tell Marco I’ll be here for … however long. He said he’d take Bollocks down to the bay.”
“There’s no need. I need Mahon to help choose who might travel and where, who will guard and where, and Sedric, who may know of portals we don’t. I’ll call you again, as council, when all’s in place.”
“They don’t need me either. I’ll go with you. Safe journey,” Morena said to Marg and Sedric. “And good hunting.”
“Come home soon.” Breen moved over to hug them both. “And safe. Find the tree of snakes.” She pulled back abruptly. “I don’t know what that means. I just know you should look for it.”
“Then we will.”
“Snakes,” Morena said as she pulled Breen outside. “A tree made of snakes?”
“I don’t know, but that’s disturbing. And it can’t be that. Someone would have noticed a tree made of snakes long before this.”
“You’ve the right of that. He’ll send my father, my brothers. My father traveling for certain, as he’s done so in so many worlds. And my brothers to guard.”
“You’re worried for them.”