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My nu e of nize --they’ll useand for every other ill that ever graced Avon And they won’t rest until ling through the swamp before the black silhouette of the cave coister what I’ careful effort I think toto reach out and take those reeds and pullto push with my foot My hands are a claainst my forehead

I’ve never tried to climb up the side of the harbor fro, shaking e the scramble Uneasiness tickles at the back ofabandoned a few meters from the dock A flak jacket rests on the bench; this wasn’t stolen and brought here by one of the Fianna

I stu off the uneven stone walls and trailing ed the lanterns, and the dark, silent hallways are streaked with so in the middle of the hallway, hard bread rolls scattered everywhere

The h here, and suddenly the stains on the floor are a garish red; s du at me--it’s a body

The world snaps into focus The floor’s slick with blood, and there are bodies--four, six, eight--sprawled near the walls Soht trails of blood on the floor Their wounds and clothes are scorched, and the air suns couldn’t do this This was the work of rabbing at it to steady aze away from them, the wounds, the streams of blood The body closest to me--it’s Mike Doyle, who helpedvoice in the Fianna, and the loudest laugh Then I see it, the way he’s curled around the tiny body beneath him I see a little hand under his, and as I blink, a sal

I stagger toward the up through al, please" My voice is hoarse and tre as I reach for his small hand "Talk tohis pale skin with ertips, that Mike, still curled over hi

"No" The h me as al before I throw up, hands pressed white-knuckled against the stone floor Gulping for air, I lift my head

And that’s when I see Jubilee

She’s on her knees toward the back of the roo straight ahead, one hand resting against the floor, the other holding her gun, dangling loosely at her side The grip’s sticky with blood, hers or theirs Her gaze is vacant If she wasn’t upright, I’d think she was one of the dead

Please Please The word beats at my consciousness in ti for To wake up froain and see it isn’t her To turn around and see Fergal stand up and run intoas I fix theun in her hand My gaze wants to slide away, refusing to see any of it, and I fall to my hands and knees in front of her

"What have you done?" Grief wrenches the words frouttural and raw "I trusted you I trusted you"

Her eyes are blank, the pupils dilated so far they look black This is their madness, their Fury She stares at one fro!" My bloodied hand grabs her unresisting shoulder, shaking her until sheMy eyes sweep the cavern oncefor a way out--and they fall on the gun In thisinsidefro the weapon around to point at the unresponsive soldier

Then her eyes h the Fury, she recognizeson the bodies and the trails of blood Horror sweeps across her features, as raw and real as pain, before she slu herself on her pal her hands, gluing the her eyes toand wavering inthrough her, shattering us both

The trodaire lifts a treun; my mind screams at my unresponsive muscles to pull away before she can disarers curl around the barrel, not the grip She pulls the weapon closer, until the barrel presses against her forehead