THE BURREN

Áthair Faolchu regarded the druid with an impassive expression. She suppressed the urge to repeat her request. He had understood her perfectly well, but perhaps he was still undecided on how to proceed, or he was pursuing a tactic. So she simply stood with her back straight, returning his gaze. What beautiful and wise eyes he had. She felt respect for his experience and hoped that the wisdom of age would guide his decision rather than the angry wildness inherent in every werewolf.

"Tamara Clíodhna, I understand that you are concerned for your own," he finally said, as the tension-filled silence seemed to stretch on for eternity. "It is the instinct of a mother to protect her young and defend them with claws and teeth, even if it should cost her life. Therefore, I can understand your request."

Tara suppressed an unwilling retort and instead smiled at him. She raised her hands. They were slender, darkened by sun and herbs she collected. Her nails were also dark, but carefully trimmed. "You see, no claws, and I assure you, I won't fight with the teeth I have left and risk being able to only eat mush in the future."

The shadow of a smile flickered across the withered features. "It's a legitimate attempt to lighten the conversation, but the facts remain. I represent the interests of my pack, and I must do what is best for them. I would not be fulfilling my role as their father if I ignored this incident and did not draw consequences from it."

They stood beneath a pale moon not far from the cave entrance, letting their gaze wander over the nightly moor at their feet. Occasionally, the call of a nocturnal bird reached them. The wind rubbed against the rock edges with a deep, resonant tone. Then came the bright howl of a wolf in the distance. Two deeper voices answered from the other side.

"Listen to the songs of my children of the moon," Áthair Faolchu said. "They are free and enjoy the excitement of the nocturnal hunt. I must do everything to preserve this freedom for them."

"That won't succeed if you destroy the bonds that were carefully woven," Tara interjected, although she felt she couldn't touch him with her words. "We made a pact!"

"We were not the ones who broke it! These bonds, as you call them, have brought us no benefits. We were ready to share and now must pay the price. It is time for us to take a different path. If we keep the strength of our land for ourselves, then it will strengthen us, while our opponents gradually weaken."

"The Lycana are not your enemies!"

"Tamara Clíodhna, they are today, and they always have been. We have closed our eyes for long enough and ignored the signs. With cunning, they lured one of ours to them and destroyed him. We will avenge him!"

"It was not the Lycana who killed him!" the druid countered.

"Can you be sure of that? Have you seen it with your own eyes?"

Tara shook her head. "No, but if you let me see the body, then I can examine his injuries and probably tell you what happened."

"That is no longer possible. My sons returned the body to the mountain, as is the custom."

"You didn't bid him farewell?"

The old werewolf shook his head. "Peregrine did not adhere to the rules and abused my trust." The druid suppressed a groan.

The werewolves felt so connected to the moor and the Twelve Bens that they carried their dead to the seemingly bottomless chasm inside their cave and let them fall in there. This time, the usual solemn procession seemed to have been omitted. If there had been evidence on Peregrine's body that a vampire hadn't killed him, then it was now lost forever. Mac Gaoth's angry face appeared before her inner eye. Perhaps they had disposed of the body so quickly precisely because there were no traces of vampire bites. Did they want to hide the bite marks of a werewolf?

Tara pondered what else she should say or do. She could no longer stop the rift between the Lycana and the werewolves. It had already occurred. However, she hoped that her voice still counted for something within the pack.

"Áthair Faolchu, we have always trusted each other, and I have never given you cause to doubt me and my word." He inclined his head in agreement.

"I therefore hope that I am still welcome among your pack."

"If you do not ally yourself with our enemy and seek to harm us," said the werewolf.

"I am allied with no one and seek to harm no one. I stand here as a mediator between the Otherworld of spirits and nature with all its creatures." Again, he nodded.

"Will I still be welcome here tomorrow? And also those under my special protection?" 

The werewolf looked at her penetratingly with his bright eyes. "I know what you're thinking and what you intend, Tamara Clíodhna." He pointed up at the moon. "You are welcome tomorrow and the following night. Return whenever you wish, but before the moon completely fades and the night of emptiness descends upon us."

She didn't dare to ask what would happen then. She still held onto the hope that everything would turn out for the better by the next new moon. The druid bowed. "Then we will meet again before the next new moon. I wish that your wisdom guides you and not your wrath."

"It is your duty and your right to speak thus, for you do not know the hot fury that burns in a werewolf."

"I know it, even if I have never felt it myself," Tara said softly. For a moment, she felt nothing but like an old woman whose life force had long been spent. She felt the werewolf's gaze on her, in which she could read something like understanding, although any weakness must have been abhorrent to him. She quickly shook off the painful memories and straightened up.

"Before the next new moon," the druid repeated, turned away, and strode down the mountain. Her two wolves followed her.

"If only we were allowed out into the courtyard and onto the battlements," Tammo groaned, resting his chin in both hands with a look of deadly boredom. It surprised no one that Fernand shortly thereafter started a brawl, in which Joanne naturally immediately intervened.

Anna Christina complained about the sea voyage she had endured, the dreadful clothes she was forced to wear, and the discomfort of the castle, but hardly anyone paid attention to her. They had heard her complaints too often. Only Marie Luise hung on her every word. She agreed with everything her older cousin said. Karl Philipp, on the other hand, had had enough as well and escaped from her nagging voice.

The four Vyrads from London sat somewhat apart in a corner, occasionally casting dark glances at their hostess. Ulicia had not retired to her chamber as announced but sat on her chair with the high back, surveying her hall with a queenly air.

Alisa glanced over at the Londoners. While Raymond seemed as uncertain as ever, his cousin Ireen, a year younger, had developed to her advantage over the summer. Although she was still not a beauty with her freckles and slightly protruding teeth, the anxiety in her eyes occasionally gave way to a kind of grim determination. She also no longer sought constant protection from Malcolm, who had almost grown into a man. Alisa suppressed a sigh. There had been moments last year when they had grown close, and she liked to keep the memory of that feeling alive within her. But then something must have gone wrong. Alisa couldn't believe that the chance was forever lost. A slight pain stirred within her at the thought. Quickly, she looked over at Ivy, who was crouched in the corner by the cold tile stove next to Seymour. Franz Leopold stood by her—yet again!—speaking to her. Alisa's gaze returned to Malcolm, who was currently examining two crossed swords on the wall. As if by chance, she sauntered through the hall and stood beside him. What should she say? It had to be something clever or something funny that would make him laugh, but definitely not too childish or silly. Alisa searched her mind but found only emptiness and darkness.

"Fortunately, this sea voyage is over," Malcolm began, to her relief, initiating the conversation. Alisa nodded in agreement, although she had felt comfortable on board and found the journey exciting.

"I hope our training will finally continue now. After all, we did not travel to Ireland to see the sea and desolate landscapes. We have taken on this year to benefit from the skills of the Lycana."

Alisa didn't want to contradict him but found the landscapes quite fascinating. Apart from their trip to Rome, she had never left Hamburg and only knew the port and the densely populated streets of the city. So, she was eager to explore the vast land that could be glimpsed beyond the coast. However, she could wholeheartedly agree with the second point.

"Yes, I also hope that our lessons will continue soon. Isn't it incredible what abilities the Lycana have acquired over time? The demonstration on the first evening was wonderful. How Donnchadh called the bats and then transformed into one of them, and Catriona, who can simply dissolve into mist."

"Possibly," Malcolm said slowly. Her enthusiasm for the Irish seemed to be too much for him. "I can't say anything about that. We weren't there. But it couldn't have been that spectacular."

Alisa felt that he wanted her agreement, but that didn't sit well with her. "I want to learn everything they can do. Just imagine the advantages their skills bring. To assume the form of any animal—or even to be able to dissolve into mist. No door, no gate can stop you!"

"Yes, that is certainly helpful," Malcolm reluctantly admitted. "And I'm glad that my fears have not been confirmed."

"What fears?" Alisa wanted to know.

"As everyone knows, the Irish are a backward people, still seemingly trapped in the Middle Ages." She suppressed a sound of protest.

"Nevertheless, I had heard of the special abilities of the Lycana, and since they do not have civilization in our sense and live in the wild nature, it seemed believable to me. Therefore, I agreed to attend the academy again this year, although I will soon perform the ritual that will make me a full-fledged member of the clan. That, and because I wanted to see you again. Not only when you all come to London for your year."

Alisa felt a strange heat rising within her. Yet it had sounded quite natural coming from him. She looked down. What should she reply to that?

"I was very pleased when I spotted you in Dunluce among the other Vyrads," she said softly, without looking at him. At the moment, it seemed better to her to examine her bare toes. Then his feet appeared in her field of vision. Unlike her, he wore the soft slip-on shoes offered by the Lycana. The fabric of his pants and tunic was in a warm brown tone. Alisa wore a pale blue-green. Still, she didn't look up, especially because he had come so close to her. His hand appeared in front of her face, placed itself under her chin, and lifted it with so much pressure that it would have been difficult for her to resist.

"What's so interesting on the floor?" he asked, but his smile told her he didn't expect an answer. "It's nice to hear that our reunion also pleases you, although I haven't had that impression so far. You're good at hiding your enthusiasm!"

"What?" Alisa exclaimed in surprise. "No, that's not true. I told you when we met in the courtyard."

"And then? Since then, you've kept your distance from me and always stuck with Franz Leopold and Luciano, and with that Ivy and her wolf."

Alisa wanted to protest. So what? They were her friends - at least Ivy, Seymour, and Luciano. "I certainly don't seek Franz Leopold's company! He's been clinging to us lately - or rather to Ivy. I don't know why she tolerates that."

Malcolm glanced over at Ivy and Franz Leopold, who were still engaged in conversation. "Well, a simple Irish vampire can feel flattered when such a handsome Dracas shows interest in her."

Alisa's insides now felt even hotter, this time from her rising anger. "Franz Leopold isn't even worth her washing his feet! He should count himself lucky if she's kind enough to address a word to him. Ivy is the most extraordinary and beautiful vampire I know, whose abilities we can all only dream of!" Her voice had become loud, and she glared at him with hands on her hips.

Oh no, what had she done? Her temper had once again gotten the better of her reason. She crossed her arms in embarrassment.

Annoyance flickered across Malcolm's face, but then he smiled again, although not as warmly as before. "I see Ivy has gained a fervent advocate. I always thought that influencing the mind was a specialty of the Dracas. But she uses her abilities and her unusual appearance just as skillfully."

"Don't say that," Alisa pleaded. "She's simply beautiful and smart and admirable. It's not a trick. That wouldn't suit her at all. Ivy wouldn't manipulate anyone. You just need to get to know her better. Don't you want to come over to her?"

Malcolm politely but firmly declined. "See, my cousin Ireen is calling for me." He turned away and walked over to the vampire, who was a year older than Alisa but looked younger. At the moment, however, it didn't seem like she was demanding his protection. Yes, she looked at him rather questioningly as he approached. Alisa sighed and turned away. With slumped shoulders, she went back to Ivy. Her friend looked up and smiled at her.

"I saw you with Malcolm. You talked for a long time. How nice."

Alisa made a face. "Argued would be the more appropriate term."

"Oh! Then it didn't go well?"

Alisa threw her arms in the air. "I completely messed it up!" She didn't say why. She didn't want Ivy to know how poorly Malcolm thought of her and spoke about her. "A total disaster," she groaned.

"Yes, that's what it seemed like to me too," said Franz Leopold with a false smile.

"Oh, just shut up!" Alisa snapped at him and stormed off.

The next evening, the young vampires were allowed to quench their blood thirst once more before leaving Dunguaire Castle with their escorts. The farewell from the venerable Ulicia was rather cold. She showed too clearly how glad she was to get rid of the uninvited guests. In return, the young vampires bid a warm farewell to the two ship captains Murrough and Tierney, his wolf Beagán, and the other sailors. While the two crews returned north with the ships of the Lycana, the clan leader and his companions set off with the heirs into the Burren, as he called it.

"What is a Burren?" Alisa asked curiously.

"We call the area here in the northwest of Clare the Burren. A commander of Cromwell's army once described this landscape as follows: 'No water to drown in, no tree to hang from, no earth to bury.' " 

Luciano laughed. "He knew what he wanted. Sounds very inviting indeed. And who was this Cromwell? One of your leaders?"

Ivy shook her head vigorously. "Oh no! Oliver Cromwell was one of the cruelest English commanders to ever visit Ireland."

"And also one of the most successful when it came to forcing the rebellious Irish to their knees, which you shouldn't forget!" a voice chimed in. Malcolm had joined them and was looking challengingly at Ivy.

Alisa glanced from Ivy to Malcolm, who were both visibly about to become enraged. "Oh, stop arguing about humans and their wars already. Look ahead. Is that the Burren?"

Four pairs of eyes lifted and wandered into the valley stretching southward, flanked by mountain ridges on both sides.

"No water to drown in, no tree to hang from, no earth to bury," said Luciano. "Not a very inviting place!"

While the valley was still covered with lush pastures, the mountain slopes and peaks lacked almost any greenery. Gray rocks rose in mighty platforms stacked on top of each other. As they left the valley floor and reached the ascending rocks, they realized that the surface was deeply furrowed, with straight grooves and holes resembling the shape of branching branches and leaves. Some looked like huge fern leaves. They all had sharp edges like blades. Although they now had to be careful where they placed their feet, Donnchadh and the others maintained their pace unabated. Anna Christina grumbled once again and complained about the hardships of the rugged land. Marie Luise supported her. While Ivy's bare feet found their way with sleepwalking certainty and always landed on the smooth stone surface, Luciano leaned forward slightly to avoid stumbling. Since he carefully searched for the right place for each step, he quickly fell behind the group. Alisa's gaze flickered over the furrowed surface. Soon, she found her rhythm and walked and jumped alongside Ivy and Seymour - and alongside Franz Leopold, whose movements had not lost any of their elegance despite the unfamiliar terrain. Malcolm, on the other hand, had fallen back to his cousins and his cousin. While Rowena, who as usual hummed to herself and let her gaze wander into the distance, seemed not to notice that her surroundings had changed, Raymond and Ireen seemed a little unsure.

"Is that limestone?" Alisa wanted to know. "How come the landscape here is so different?"

"You saw correctly. These mountains consist of mighty limestone layers. If we were to stop and examine the surface closely, we could discover shells and snails embedded in the rock everywhere. Tara says these mountains were once the deep sea floor."

"How can that be?"

"The earth lives and undergoes constant change, brought about by fire, water, and ice. Look around and look down into the valley. Water has washed away the seemingly solid limestone. And here, too, it works day and night. The smallest cracks are enough for the rainwater to slip through. In doing so, it takes away a little bit of rock, widens the cracks, hollows it out, and shapes this labyrinth of furrows. Somewhere underground, the water collects into an underground river and then emerges there in the valley to rush to the sea."

"An underground river?" Alisa's eyes lit up. "I would love to see that."

"You will. The river, and the cave labyrinth it has created on its way, because that is our destination."

They stopped. Donnchadh, Catriona, and the others had stopped and were discussing quietly. As the stragglers caught up with them, Alisa looked up at the flattened mountains above. Rain had washed soil into the grooves and hollows, so that a little grass and occasionally low hawthorn and blackthorn bushes grew there. Between the ridges, the view fell into the green valley. The transition between gray rock and lush grassland was like drawn with a knife. While no one seemed to live on the rocky ground below, scattered farmhouses stood in the valley, pastures were separated by stone walls, and on the gently sloping hillside on the other side rose a tower castle. A few low houses were at their feet, groves like small islands and pastures joined. Further north, the valley finally flowed into Galway Bay.

"Can you spot our pursuers?" Luciano asked, who had finally caught up with them. Now only the two Dracas vampire women, Chiara and Maurizio with his fat tomcat Ottavio, who was the last to join them, were missing. Alisa suspected because he had sent the animal back to hunt for himself.

Alisa watched for any movement but couldn't see anything. "No, I don't see anything. Either they're too far back, or they've actually lost our trail. What do you think, Ivy?"

"I hope we've managed to shake them off. They had already lost sight of us when we sailed past the bay. It's unlikely that they tracked us to land in Dunguaire Castle. At least, they weren't nearby. Seymour couldn't pick up any foreign scents," Ivy replied.

"Maybe they don't need to see us or follow our tracks to find out where we're going," Franz Leopold said casually.

"Do you mean they can read thoughts over miles? That's ridiculous," Luciano snapped at him.

Franz Leopold shook his head. "Certainly not. Not even the masters of the Dracas can do that! No, I'm thinking more along the lines of betrayal from within our own ranks! A specialty of the Irish, if I'm not mistaken."

Alisa was sure that Ivy would now protest and defend the honor of the Lycana, but instead, she lowered her head. Sadness lingered in her gaze. "Yes, all too often defeat comes through the back door of betrayal. I hope you're wrong. However, we cannot be sure. Not until we know who our pursuers are and what they aim to achieve."

Luciano made a dismissive gesture. "I don't think they knew from the outset where we were traveling. Why else would they have waited in the shelter of the island until we sailed past them? They have humans on board and could have used the whole day to gain an advantage. Yes, they could have set up an ambush if they were so intent on harming or destroying us."

"A smart objection. I hope you're right and we've really lost them," Ivy said, looking at the Dracas attentively. "What about you, Leo? If I'm not mistaken, you don't agree with me."

"No, I wouldn't like it if they had just lost our trail."

"Probably because you're in cahoots with them," Luciano insinuated.

Franz Leopold just shrugged. "Believe what you want, chubster, I don't care. I'm just wondering why someone would go to the great effort of traveling to Dunluce, laying tracks, and chasing us halfway across the island. It must be an important matter that one wouldn't give up on just because the prey escaped once."

Ivy looked at him thoughtfully. "You mean they'll do everything to track us down again?"

"Yes, and that's why we can only be at ease when we know their intentions and have neutralized them."

Against her will, Alisa had to agree with him. "So we would almost have to wish that they find us."

"But yes," Franz Leopold said simply.

"And do you plan to lend a hand?" Luciano asked.

"I might need to think about that," Franz Leopold replied.

At that, Luciano had nothing to say, and as Donnchadh and the others set off again, he preferred to focus his attention on his feet.

"Did you find their trail?" Danilo's voice sounded impatient and brusque. The small, almost black wolf whimpered, then transformed back into the vampire Tonka.

"Yes, I did," she said, pushing her long black hair out of her face. "They were in the castle there on the island, I'm quite sure, but they didn't cross over the bridge here. A ship must have ferried them across. I had to search the entire shore until I could pick up their scent a few miles from here. It leads south into the valley. I can't tell you more yet. I turned back to report, as I suspected you might become impatient and irritable!" She gave him a meaningful look. Danilo growled.

"Good, as wolves, we can easily follow their trail and are faster than them," he began to call the fog, but Tonka's clearing her throat made him pause. "What's wrong?"

"Beloved brother, have you forgotten again that our charming companion Piero is not capable of this transformation?"

Danilo cursed unpleasantly. "Then he'll have to see how he follows us."

The other vampire looked at him horrified. "Am I to travel alone? This land is unfamiliar to me. I don't even know where I can spend the days safely."

The two siblings exchanged a quick glance. Not yet, Tonka's thoughts said. We might still need him. After all, he led us to their trail and told us everything about the meeting and the agreement that we need to know.

Now we know it, so he's dispensable, Danilo insisted.

Piero looked uncomfortably from one to the other until Tonka spoke up:

"They're only one night ahead. We'll catch up with them. There's no need for haste," Tonka said reconcilingly. "I'll transform into a wolf so I can pick up their scent more easily, and you'll follow me. They'll seek out some hiding place or something similar, and then we'll have them trapped!"

"And what do we do with the fishermen who brought us here?" Piero wanted to know.

Tonka looked over at the moored boat. "We could have them drop us off at the spot where the Lycana went ashore. That way, we'll save ourselves from having to circumnavigate the entire bay. And then they'll receive their payment!"

"You really intend to pay them and let them sail away?" Piero asked incredulously. "Or do you think we'll need them to wait for us here for our return journey?"

Tonka shook her head and opened her lips in a wolfish grin. "No, I think their role is played out here and now. When I mentioned their payment, I was thinking of something entirely different!"

Piero returned her smile. "I see we're in agreement. Then let's go aboard and embark on the final leg of our sea journey. I can hardly wait for everyone to finally receive their reward."

"Yes, rewards are a wonderful thing," Tonka affirmed, smiling dreamily. "Even though I suspect that in this case, it may turn out differently than some participants had hoped!"

"As long as it turns out to our satisfaction," Danilo said dryly, swinging himself into the small dinghy, where one of the crew members had rowed ashore. The others remained on board.

"Back to the ship," he ordered, and the sailor took up the oars.