““I call upon the deamhan and the sidhe ," Ruadan prayed. "To heal their son, flesh of their flesh, magic of their magic. So do I will it, so mote it be." I watched in terrified amazement as the whirling lights weaved into a heart. A real heart. The pulsating organ connected to the veins. Then the flesh sealed itself and within seconds, no wound existed at all. I stared at Patrick then looked at Ruadan, mouth gaping. "Neat, huh?" he said. "I like the sparkling lights the best." "That's it ?" I asked. "Yep.””
