Aine grabbed his hand. «Stop,» she said. «I will show you.» Conn jerked away from her. This talk of strange marks upon his skin was too much. He should not have made love to her. It was her way of entrapping him.

Yet, you were captivated by her before you made love to her. Your decision was made of your own free will. Was it not so?

«What spell have you placed upon me?» He wrinkled his brow, once more going over the moments since they met to recall if she had conjured something that he might have missed.

Aine smiled and touched the scar upon his cheek with her fingertip. «It is you who have placed a spell on me.» She pushed his hair away from his face and behind his ear. «I will show you the mark. Ye must allow it. Ye will see ’tis the only way to defeat Balor.» Aine placed her hand against his temple and stood beside him, facing in the opposite direction. «Ye will see what I see,» she said. «Close your eyes and it will be done.»

I have nothing to lose. I am already a dead man. Conn closed his eyes.

«Use my eyes to see.» Her voice held a caress that dispelled the incongruity of her words. He took a deep breath and released it.

He saw Niul, even though his back was to the horse. Niul tossed his head up and down and pawed at the sand. The line of his sight moved and Conn saw dark hair that tossed in the wind and his profile, facing the fire and the sea with his eyes closed. How can this be? He was seeing with her eyes. What else could it be? Her hand left his face, yet he could still see with her eyes. Her fingers trailed down his shoulder and back as her eyes followed the trail. He saw the scar below his shoulder blade from one of his first battles. Her eyes moved lower and — there — he saw the mark. She traced it with her fingers. Two sets of blue interlocking lines that looped at the corners and formed a triangle. Just like the mark on her shoulder. It closed into his vision and he realized she had bent so that it was at eye level. Then it faded from view and he felt her lips gently touch him with a kiss at the place where the mark had formed.

The mark and his vision of it were beyond his comprehension at the moment.

«It was not chance that brought us together this night at this place.»

He opened his eyes to find her standing before him. «Nor was it chance that placed the mark upon me.» He took her hands into his and turned them so they were palms up. They were ghostly white against the bronze of his skin. Delicate, as if he held a bird in his grasp. «Ye did this.»

Her eyes were steady upon him. «Believe me when I say I do not know how this happened, I just know that it has.» Her hands folded over his.

There were more important things to consider at the moment. «Whatever the cause there is naught to be done now. I am as trapped by this as you are.» He could not blame her for anything that had happened, or would happen, when it was his own honour that demanded he stay. The decision was made when he went into the surf to save her. He would not go back on it now.

Conn went to Niul. «Niul will take you, should things go badly.» His words were optimistic at best. He had no chance of winning a fight against a warrior who could kill with a look. He could only hope that he would die with honour, and take Balor with him, or wound him enough that Aine could get away. Conn saddled Niul as she watched.

«Let me be your eyes,» she said when he was finished preparing Niul. «It can work. You have seen that it will.»

«You would have me fight without honour by using your gifts?»

«I would have you balance the field. Balor certainly will not hesitate to use his gift against you. His gift that is endowed by evil and darkness. Let us fight evil and darkness with goodness and light.» Aine grabbed his arm. «I would not have you die needlessly.»

«I would hope not to die at all.» Conn looked at the sea, fallen back now, as the tide was nearly at its lowest point. He walked to the line where wet sand met dry and looked at the tower. The lightning was gone and the moon played a game of hide and seek with the clouds. A long time had passed since Balor’s last cry. He would come, and soon. «Could it be that easy?» he asked Aine who had once more joined him.

«Mayhap easier than you think,» she said. «Ye must simply trust in me.»

«Trust is not something simply given. Once upon a time I believed in it as I believed in the goodness of man and kings. I have since learned that the only thing worth believing in is your own true worth.»

«I believe in you. You have just shared your soul with me by this fire and I know it to be good. Indeed ye now wear the mark of my people, a blessing not lightly given. I have been honest with you in all things, not an easy task for me as my experience with man is not one I treasure.» She implored him once more. «Let me give you this.»

The clouds moved on and the light of the moon shone down upon them. Conn gazed into her quicksilver eyes and saw nothing to give him pause. They shone with emotion and his heart felt strange within his chest. He lifted a hand to her cheek and she moved it against his palm.

«I will trust you,» he said. Before his words were done Balor’s war cry joined them. He had come.

* * *

Aine stood by the fire with Niul’s reins in her hand. Conn stood a body length away before her. Both of them faced north and Balor who would soon be upon them. Conn wore a strip of linen, torn from his chainse, across his eyes and held his broadsword and shield in his capable hands.

Niul tossed his head and Conn jerked involuntarily in their direction. Aine calmed the horse with a touch and kept her eyes to the north. She sensed Balor in much the same manner the horse did.

Finally, from the shadows, he strode forth. He stood a head taller than Conn, completely bald, and with the one large blue eye in the middle of his forehead. The rest of his face was like that of a man, with a large nose and wide mouth with thick stumps of teeth. His chest was bare and his arms bore wide bands of bronze. He wore leather leggings tied with cross-garters, and low boots. One hand bore a sword and the other a mace. Balor walked directly to where Conn stood, thumped his broad chest with the hilt of his sword and roared.

«Trust in me,» Aine said. Her eyes focused on the chain about Balor’s neck. Upon it was her keystone that would take her back to her world. She must lay claim to it while the portal was open.

Conn spun his sword in his hands and widened his stance. Aine saw his head move, slightly, up and down, in agreement. He trusted her. She would not fail him.

It was as if he looked through a long deep tunnel. Mayhap it was because of her proximity. She was not as close as before when she showed him the mark. She must stay back to give him room to fight.

As Balor appeared from the darkness and stalked to where he stood, Conn was suddenly glad for the blindfold. Every instinct he possessed had screamed against it when Aine tore the strip from his chainse and placed it over his eyes. He knew now that she was right and he would not have been able to stop himself from staring at the one strange eye in Balor’s forehead. He would be dead before he had a chance to strike a blow at his enemy.

If the eye is his tool to killing then is the eye the sure way to kill him? Conn knew in his heart it was so. To kill Balor he must stab him in the eye. An eye that was a good head taller than he was, he realized, when Balor stopped before him, thumped his chest and roared.

«Trust in me.» He heard the words in his mind and nodded his head in response. He gripped his sword. He was ready.

Balor came at him in a rush. The giant’s frustration at Conn’s blindfold was obvious. Conn realized his perspective on Balor was a little off when he had to bend backwards to block an attack with the mace. He pushed up with his shield and swung his sword at Balor’s legs.

Aine must have realized the problem because his perspective suddenly changed. She had moved closer. He must be careful not to bring her into the battle. He could not become tangled with her, or, worse, let Balor grab her once more as a hostage.

He felt the satisfying drag of his sword as it nicked Balor’s leg. The giant roared once more in frustration and danced back and away from his thrust. Conn stood upright again and pressed his attack, leading with his shield and following with his sword. Balor’s reactions were slower but his reach was greater. While Conn barely brushed at the giant, he had to duck to avoid Balor’s swinging mace and thrusting sword that threatened to take his head off if either connected. Still he drove the giant back and knew by his vision that Aine followed.

But they were moving away from the firelight and her vision was dimming with the darkness that surrounded them. Aine was to his right, which meant she could not see what was coming to his left. He could only hope that his warrior’s instinct would lead him and his shield would do the job of protecting his side. One blow finally staggered him. Balor had come at him with his mace swinging from the side and it buried itself in the shield. As Balor tried to pull the mace free he pulled Conn’s arm with him so as to leave Conn’s torso exposed. Conn had no choice but to release his hold on his shield while he ducked and rolled beneath the thrust of Balor’s sword. He realized he’d come to his feet on the opposite side of Balor when all he could see was the giant’s back and himself beyond.

Balor swung his mace outwards, trying to free the shield. Conn knew Aine was running towards him. Still he must take advantage of Balor’s distraction. He gripped his sword with both hands and raised it over his head with the point facing straight out. As he brought the full force of his strength into the downwards motion, he felt the impact of metal against the bone of his thigh. Conn’s scream was one of pain, anger and frustration but he kept his grip. The loss of his balance pushed him against Balor and his sword went straight into his eye and pierced through his skull. Balor went to his knees and Conn fell to the side, dragging himself away. He ripped the blindfold from his face and turned in time to see the giant tumble face forwards into the sand, braced up by the hilt of his sword.