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Updated: May 23, 2025
As though spun out like gleaming strands of cobwebs, coils of light came flickering toward the attacking Brons. Like blue-white ripples they went across the fore-running Kalis. The ripples of light went on expanding. The shotgun in the hands of the old Bron suddenly burst to pieces. The old rifles fell apart.
They slid to the marble street and died. And the Kalis laughed and whined and screamed as they fed. Even above their feeding-song and the screams of their victims came the shrill, triumphant cry of Nea urging them on. Nor was the rest of Maya's army still. One old Bron who had been a slave of Grim Hagen for too long had found a shotgun among Hagen's treasures and was blasting away.
"Bron, and the monk Olcan," said Patrick, "who came towards me along Traig-Eothaili, and my foster-son, Mac-Erca, with them; a wave of the sea made a great dash, and tried to carry off the youth." This was a prophecy. Post hoc autem possuerunt episcopum Cairellum juxta sanctam Ecclesiam in Tamhnagh, quem ordinaverunt Episcopum Patricii, viz., Bronus et Biteus.
But he wasn't loose three minutes before the communicator in the truck squawked the all-police alarm for him. It was to be expected. All the city would shortly be one enormous man-trap, set to catch Bron Hoddan. There was only one place on the planet, in fact, where he could be safe and he wouldn't be safe there if he'd been officially charged with murder.
A ball lightning bolt, even of only warning size, makes things uncomfortable when it strikes. Hoddan's fingers tingled as if they'd been asleep. He threw on the transmitter switch and said annoyedly: "Hello, grandfather. This is Bron. Have you been waiting for me long?" He heard his grandfather swear disgustedly.
You have to be locked up forever, Bron. You have to!" Hoddan said inadequately: "Oh." "I beg your forgiveness for having you arrested," said Derec in abysmal sorrow, "but I couldn't do anything but tell " Hoddan stared at his cell wall. Derec went away weeping. He was an admirable, honorable, not-too-bright young man who had been Hoddan's only friend. Hoddan stared blankly at nothing.
Odin saw a few white-headed ones. And once he saw a captain stop to lash a worn, gray-haired Bron who must have been one of the original prisoners. The poor fellow looked so old and frazzled that Odin could not recognize him. His heart grew heavy as he thought of those prisoners. They had done no harm. Their lives had been wasted away because of their loyalty to Maya.
The grizzled Bron who had spoken once before now laughed good-humoredly. "Demonstrate it on Gunnar," he suggested. "And I will thump your skull " Gunnar was ready to go for him, but Odin grabbed the little giant's arm. "He jokes. Besides, you are ruining the girl's show. This means much to her." Nea gave him a grateful glance. The council voted their thanks to Nea and a tribute to her father.
"I know," growled Hoddan, "but there are some people so stupid you have to show them everything. I didn't realize that there are people so stupid you can't show them anything." "You ... showed something you didn't intend," said Derec miserably. "Bron, I ... I have to tell you. When they went to charge the carbon bins at the power station, they ... they found a dead man, Bron!" Hoddan sat up.
Simonne asked cheerfully if it was for her, but the porter woman did not vouchsafe an answer and only pointed her chin toward Nana's dressing room at the end of the passage. Oh, that Nana! They were loading her with flowers! Then when Mme Bron returned she handed a letter to Clarisse, who allowed a smothered oath to escape her. That beggar La Faloise again!
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