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headless black form of the giant topple back from the edge and out of
sight.
"Lugh's done it!" Findgoll exclaimed.
"Now he and Shaglan have only to get away," said Aine, watching the
rooftop hopefully.
"If they're still alive," Angus added. Then he glanced toward Aine and
colored.
Another explosion in the lower levels of the Tower sprayed glass and
wreckage far out over the rocks near them.
"We've got ourselves to be thinking about now," said the Dagda sharply.
"Come on!"
They continued toward the point, but Aine glanced back often, praying
she would see the familiar form of the Pooka rise from the rooftop with
Lugh astride it.
On the incoming fleet Nuada and his warriors had also
238
MASTER OF THE SIDHE
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THE SPEAR
239
observed the destruction of Balor. Their reaction had been a blend of
amazement and joy.
"His head just burst!" said Bobd Derg, his poet's gift for words gone
in his awe. "How did it happen?"
Nuada shook his head. "I don't know, but it's saved us! Now we go
straight in. Make for their harbor."
"Look there!" another warrior cried, pointing. "There are people moving
out onto that bit of rocks. Women and children, I think. They must be
coming from the Tower!"
"Why, that's the Dagda himself with them!" said Bobd Derg. "I can't
mistake that figure."
"And the Morrigan too," Nuada added. "By Danu. So they are alive." He
turned and shouted to the snip's helmsman: "Head in there, toward that
point! Quick now. We've got to pick them up!"
On the rooftop young Lugh once again struggled to his feet. I should be
getting used to this by now, he told himself. But it was getting harder
each time, and this last battle had nearly finished him. His body was
screaming in protest as he moved his battered limbs. His ribs all
seemed caved in, his head throbbed, and he was having difficulty
getting his legs to move quite as they should.
He cast a quick glance at the blackened pile that had been Bres, then
stumbled across the roof toward the smoking body of the fallen giant.
The barrel head had been completely blown away, taking off much of the
upper shoulders and chest with it. Inside the huge chest a large cavity
was revealed. And something was within it. He peered closer, realizing
it was a human form.
There, nestled in a tight metal cave, almost a part of the surrounding
assemblage of machinery and gadgets, was a very old man. He had been
killed instantly by a deep gash through the high dome of his head. It
had streaked his long white hair with thick tresses of blood.
Another explosion within the stricken Tower made the surface beneath
his feet shake violently, and it recalled Lugh to the present. He had
to get away from here, and very soon.
Then he remembered Shaglan. The Pooka's huddled form still lay where it
had crashed to the rooftop. He ran to it.
"Shaglan!" he said anxiously, laying a hand upon it. "Shaglan, are you
alive?"
The landing had apparently arrested the being's form-
shifting. Save for a beak and a feathered body, it was now mostly lion
again. It shifted, moaned, and lifted its head to regard him with
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irritation in its large, dark eyes.
"I am," it said sharply, "and no thanks to this poor body of mine.
Curse that Dagda! This is all his fault too!"
"Can you fly?" Lugh asked hopefully.
It tried to move itself, but grimaced with pain.
"Sorry, lad. There are parts broken inside me that I didn't know I had.
And maybe I didn't before. Anyway, I can't even stand, much less fly,
and I can't even begin to change my shape at all."
There came another, heavier explosion, from just below this time. Smoke
began to seep up around the edges of the useless lift and pour from the
open doorway to the stairs. Balor's level of the Tower was now afire
too.
"Lugh, you can't help me," the Pooka told him earnestly. "Leave me. Get
away yourself."
"I wouldn't leave you, Shaglan," Lugh replied. Then he shrugged and
laughed. "Besides, there's no place I can really go."
He rose and moved back to the edge of the roof, peering down. He could
see the people of the Tower moving from the tip of the Rocky peninsula
into the water. Ships of Eireland were sailing in as close as possible
and taking them aboard.
"At least the others are getting safely off," he observed. He looked
back to the Pooka and spoke regretfully. "It really is mv fault that
you're here, Shaglan. I brought you into this."
"No, no, lad!" the being protested, "You brought me nowhere. It was
always my own choice. I wanted to make amends for my clan's wrong."
"And that you've more than done," Lugh told it, moving back to its
side. "We would never have won without you. The de Dananns haven't a
warrior more loyal." He sat down and put an arm across the broad
shoulders of the being.
"You know," Shaglan said thoughtfully, "I suppose there is something to
dying heroically and all that. And we're surely going to do it in a
grand and glorious way. But, to say the truth, I think I'd much prefer
staying alive."
"So would I," Lugh admitted, thinking longingly of Aine.
Far below, the last of Lugh's companions were being pulled aboard
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