“than anyone.”
Min reached up and grabbed his chin and shook it, then gave his cheek a gentle slap, like an affectionate grandmother might do to her grandson.
“She is also our resident sorceress. Her ability is called Alchemy, meaning she can cast charms and spells, and mix potions. She is also the one who forges and charms our Sciaths.”
“Yes, and I also read saols,” she said, giving Alex a wry look.
“What’s a saol?” I asked.
“A person’s life energy; their aura,” Min replied, still looking at Alex. “Is there something you neglected to tell me?” she asked him, slyly.
The color in his face seemed to pale just a bit. “No,” he answered, shooting her a look full of meaning that I couldn’t decipher.
“All right then,” she said, with a “we’ll discuss this later” look.
He cleared his throat. “I was telling her about Darragh,” he told Min, a little louder than needed.
Min shook her head sadly. “Unnatural,” she said again. “No one should have more than one gift. That is not the way it was meant to be. Would you steal the head of another because you wished to be smarter? Would you take the legs of a man because you wished to be faster? Darragh was gifted with an ability as the rest of us were, but that was not enough for him. He could not see his gift for the blessing that it was, he only saw power. And he wanted more. Even if it meant he had to take it.”
“How does he do that?” I asked.
“We don’t know for sure,” Alex said, “but we do know that the Holder he takes from doesn’t survive.”
“He kills them?” I whispered.
“He has to, there is no other way,” Min said. “In order to take the ability of another, you must take their life force. The two cannot be separated.”
My stomach turned when I thought about how cold a man like that would have to be. If that was the way he treated others of his own race, what would he do to the hundreds of thousands of humans he felt were beneath him?
“If he has every ability there is, how do you stop him?” I asked, wondering if they were fighting a lost cause.
“He does not have every ability,” Min said. “He has many, that is true. More than we are aware of, I am sure. But there are many he does not yet possess, including the one he wants most of all.”
She motioned for me to follow her as she made her way over to a large table on the opposite side of the room. There were several items on it, the largest of which was a black box in the center with a clear glass lid.
“The Iris,” she said, resting her hand on the box. “This is what he wants. The one thing he cannot have.”
I looked in the box to see a large circular medallion, about half an inch thick and six inches in diameter. She’d called it the Iris, and I supposed it did look something like an eye; the design on the face consisting of three circles, one inside the other. The outer and innermost circles – which on an eye would have been the whites and pupil – were pewter and had intricate Celtic knots engraved all over the surface. The middle “iris” circle was shiny and black, and made of glass, or possibly a smooth stone, I couldn’t tell.
“What is it?” I asked, leaning forward for a closer look.
“It’s called Dubh Inteachán; the Black Iris. It was forged over two thousand years ago by one of the most powerful Alchemists in history,” Alex said, stepping up behind me.
“It was said,” Min began in what I can only imagine was her best “come gather around the campfire” voice, “that he dreamt one night of a time far in the future, when the Holderkind would face a great enemy. In his dream there was a great battle, in which all the Holders were killed. He believed that his dream was a sign. It took him over a year of constant work, but finally the Iris was completed.”
“So, what does it do?” I asked.
“Well…” Alex paused, scratching the back of his head and glancing over to Min. “We’re not really sure.”
“Not sure? It sounds like kind of a big deal; shouldn’t you maybe look into that?”
“We can’t know for sure what it does until it’s awakened and used.”
“OK…” I prompted, when neither of them continued, not enjoying the sudden