you and your companions before the morning breaks." He stopped for a moment, and then called out: "Ho, my little children of the underworld, rise from your dark places and give greetings to the kingly heroes of the Fianna."
The torch flickered and died out, but the room was filled with strange coloured lights that danced and moved about as though held by invisible hands; and by the aid of this light the astonished Fians beheld nine bodies without heads rise up through the floor on one side of the cottage, and on the other side nine heads without bodies appeared, and vague shadowy forms moved in the air about them. When Fionn saw all these dreadful phantoms he held his shield firmly before him, and drew his magic spear—a weapon forged long ages before by some ancient armourer of the Sidhe, who put a song of war and unfailing death in its shining blade.
"Sing now, my little ones, and put the enchantment of your song on these chiefs of the Fianna," muttered the grey old man.
At his bidding the phantoms began to howl
