as long as it did not attempt a return. That threat has become palpable, in my mind at least. Do you agree?” Both Cormac and Donato nodded. “I am pleased you both agree and I am sure you will do what is right—do what is necessary.”
“I have been thinking the same, Your Holiness,” Cormac said.
“Cormac, you and Donato have been friends a long time,” Clement said, staring hard at the Cardinal Vicar. “What is said to one the other hears. You both have been steadfast and strong in my support. But you anger me, Cormac. As the leader of the Catholic Church, I demand to know what is going on at all times. The events in Iran, Iraq, and the East Bank do hold much of my attention, and much of my duty is pomp, but it is also my role and none other to oversee the entirety of our faith, and that includes protecting Rome.” He paused. “There are many secrets the Vigilo are not privy to yet that I am aware of, knowledge that can benefit situations the Church finds itself in. Don’t forget that.”
“It will not happen again, Your Holiness,” Cormac replied, biting his tongue.
“Now, I know the knight below is inexperienced,” the Pope stated. “Is that a worry?”
“He is quite capable,” Donato answered. “Young and strong.”
“Ennio Rossi will aid us in what must be done,” Cormac added. “Of that, I promise you.”
“Good. Good,” Clement said, rising. “Do what must be done. That is all.”
“Holy Father,” Cormac said, bowing in farewell.
As Cormac helped Donato from the room, the hot gaze of the Pope pressed into his back like a knife. The Cardinal Vicar grinned. Despite having done his duty by informing the Pope of Ardall, the Heliwr could yet still be within his grasp.
He hoped Ennio Rossi would be receptive to what Cormac had in mind for Finn Arne.
“It is time we spoke to Ennio,” Donato breathed.
“It is indeed, my old friend,” Cormac agreed. “And find where Annwn is hiding Bran Ardall.”
“This must be done, Ennio,” Donato urged.
The young knight sat on the edge of the Seer’s bed, his eyes betraying distrust. Cormac stood nearby, more and more irritated with each passing second. The wavy-haired knight shot glances at the Cardinal Vicar, skepticism captured in his uncomfortable posture. Donato tried to curtail such feelings, his papery hands squeezing those of the young man with emphasis.
“Yeh know I would not ask yeh of this if it were not of great import.”
Ennio nodded. “I know, Cardinal Ramirez.”
Impatience crept into Cormac. Ennio Rossi was a strong knight but youth made him unpredictable. He was unable to see the gray from the black and white of Myrddin Emrys. The Cardinal Vicar and Seer would have to make a strong case for Ennio to follow their plan.
Trying to hide his contempt, Cormac gazed to the far wall where the black shroud hid the Fionúir Mirror, a stain in an otherwise warm room.
It waited for Cormac like a ghost, a cold promise.
He turned to the knight. “If all things were equal, Ennio, there would be no need.”
“It goes against all I have been taught,” the Italian responded. “I trust you both, whereas the others would never agree to what you are asking. I believe, however, this passes boundaries that should not be crossed.”
“It is an odd situation,” Donato agreed. “Cardinal O’Connor and I cannot even explain the last time a person from this world entered Annwn not by accident. Myrddin Emrys stresses the need for the two worlds to remain separate, just as the Church does. But this is a situation that could lead to a much larger war—a war of cataclysmic proportions for all involved. Trust me, son, this is something we must stop at all costs.”
“Who exactly are you sending in?” Ennio asked.
“You will meet them. Good God-fearing men, no worries,” Cormac assured.
Ennio nodded, the lack of enthusiasm written on his face. Cormac didn’t blame him. For centuries ever since Myrddin Emrys had given the knights their power, there had been a tenuous relationship between the Church and those who guarded the portals. But the boy was not allowing his betters to aid in his decision-making. Cormac grew angrier at the thought. Although the knight could best him easily with the Arthurian-bestowed knife Carnwennan, the desire to grab Ennio by the shirt and shake him until teeth rattled persisted.
“It will be done then,” Ennio said. He did not look happy about it.