“Oi! éamon,” called a voice from the exposed undercroft of Dun Balor.

  Breaslin pinched a finger in his book to keep his place marked as he shifted to the far side of the rock on which he reclined. He knew walking back to the eastern settlement on Tory Island would bring him more peace, but the perpetual fires used to both conceal and intimidate left a dingy layer of soot on everything there. The ashy smell remained in his nostrils even when he sneaked across the strait onto the mainland.

  Ultan’s head ascended out of the entrance hole. “éamon? Hiding’s a bit childish for a man of your age, dya’think?"

  Breaslin blinked slowly and stood up. “I’ll hand it to Dother, he never would say such a thing to me.”

  “He might still be alive if you’d brought me along on your mission out west. Did you want a cowing servant or did you want someone to help complete your plans?”

  “You are neither at the moment, Ultan,” Breaslin said, dropping his chin to his chest to draw a deep breath. “I trust all this yelling is excitement to bring me good news?”

  Ultan’s gait hitched by a quarter step.

  Unbelievable, Breaslin thought. “What happened this time?”

  “You should come down,” Ultan said, his tone more reserved.

  “He’s still there? You’re still chatting away?”

  “You need to hear this.”

  Breaslin followed Ultan down the ladder into the torchlit chamber. With an open palm, Ultan yielded the prime spot in front of the portal to Breaslin. Breaslin stepped forward, let his eyes focus through the light swirling about the portal’s surface on the forms standing on the other side of it.

  “Devlin,” Breaslin said. “Where are you? This isn’t Indech’s palace.”

  “We’re stationed up in Dún Cuilenn,” Devlin said. “Just across the mountains from Tír fo Thuinn.”

  “An odd place,” Breaslin said. “Shouldn’t you be with your master preparing?”

  “There was a complication,” Devlin said. “The sílrad slipped past us.”

  “How?” Breaslin yelled. “You had plenty of warning, did you not? I told you where they were heading. They were in your element. They were battle-weary at that!”

  “They were tougher than we expected,” Devlin said. “But I’m sure you knew that already, seeing how they had to defeat your people in order to get to mine.”

  Breaslin jabbed a finger at the portal, close enough to feel the change in the air surrounding it. “This isn’t my fault. He needs to understand that.”

  Devlin‘s tone turned cold. “Indech doesn’t need a damn thing. Still, he is aware of the entire situation.”

  Breaslin scratched his ear. “A group of mortals of such a size suddenly appearing in Tír Tairnigire won’t go unnoticed. It will be harder to reach them, but not impossible.”

  “Some of them did not make it to Tír Tairnigire,” Devlin.

  “So you did lay some of them low,” Breaslin said with a grin. “We can work with that.”

  “We did not. We destroyed one of their boats, and then the merrow forced half of them to detour.”

  “Which half?”

  “MacRannell, the ranger, the older brother, and someone we don’t know,” Devlin said. We found their boat in tatters the next day on Hy-Falga.”

  “So that’s why you’ve gone north,” Breaslin said. “They’re in Tír fo Thuinn.”

  “We have dozens of men ready to march or sail north. Neither trip will be quick, I’m afraid. The choices are crossing the peaks of Coróin Cuileann or sailing out of sight along the northeast. It’s no small place, however. They were nowhere to be found when we went in after them. We were hoping you might have some insight into where they’re going?”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Breaslin scoffed. As if understanding them was worth my time. His eyes slid from the portal. “You said the older brother was with them? Then they’ll know the most basic secret of the Otherworlds by now and search for the way into Tír Tairnigire. Their most likely path is northwest. They’re so meddlesome, though—”

  Chills of dread and elation traveled up and down his spine. “Tell me, Devlin, does The ávertach still hold sway over the land and the Aos Sí?”

  “He does.”

  “He still has the means of his insurance secure?”

  “He does,” Devlin said. “We’d have heard otherwise if not. Hang on, you don’t think—”

  “—Sure I do,” Breaslin said. “Get your people ready to set sail. Don’t pass too close to the northern cape.”

  “Why?” Devlin asked.

  “I’d rather not alert Herself about our comings and goings unless it’s necessary,” Breaslin said.

  “Why would she care?” Devlin asked. “Better yet, why wouldn’t she take our side?”

  “Have your people heard from her recently?” Breaslin asked.

  “We have not, but I don’t see how it changes anything.”

  “This isn’t a debate,” Breaslin said. “Get to those fools and do it without being seen by anyone before you make landfall.”

  Finn leaned over the long table in front of Oisín’s house, his eyes dancing over the map spread upon it. He dragged a finger across the paper, from the right edge of the map to the middle. “Unbelievable,” he said. “This really is just one big world.”

  Oisín smiled. “Seems overwhelming in hindsight, doesn’t it?” he said. “The thought that each of these lands being its own world and all.”

  Finn shook his head. “There’s a lot that seems overwhelming right now. Present company especially.”

  “Oi! Keep your eyes to the right,” Rory said. “Once you help us you can worry about getting to Tír Tairnigire. Who knows? Maybe you’ll arrive there with the Sword of Light in hand.”

  “That seems unlikely,” Maeve said, joining them with a bowl in hand. She slumped into an empty chair at the table. “Even if we find the steward.”

  Niall approached with two bowls and handed one to Finn. “You must learn to break focus long enough to eat something,” he said. “It does you no good to choke down a meal right before going to bed because you forgot.”

  “Is Fergal coming?” Finn asked.

  Niall waved his free hand at the door. “Some warriors wanted to test him.”

  “That’s only partially true,” Oisín said. “We need to speak with the three of you. About Fergal.”

  Maeve set down her bowl and leaned forward. “What about him?”

  “We’re sure he’s a sound fighter and a fine man,” Rory said.

  “I hate this conversation already,” Maeve said.

  “You’re not alone,” Finn said.

  “Please, granddaughter,” Oisín said. “Hear us out.”

  “You now know how prevalent magic is in our world,” Rory said. “No matter how good a fighter he is, he’s not a child of the Tuatha Dé. You step onto any battlefield at a disadvantage with him on your side.”

  “Let’s say for a moment I believe that,” Maeve said. “which I feckin’ don’t. This man tracked us down by himself in the dead of night in a forest full of monstrous, cursed wolves.” Her eyes shifted to Oisín. “Woe to anyone who tells him he can’t fight alongside his friends or fight to find the woman he loves. Even you, sir, might have your hands full with him in that moment.”

  Oisín grinned and chuckled through his nose, likely because he sat too far from Maeve to pat her on the head.

  “The choice is yours,” Oisín said. “I urge you to pass along our warning.”

  “Of course we will,” Maeve said. “I urge you to ready yourselves for rejection. At least with Fergal you’ll know it will come in a polite manner.”

  “We’ll speak with him, sir,” Niall said once Maeve had cooled. “I fear Maeve’s right, however.”

  Maeve stiffened at her elder’s choice of words. The conversation neared a turn toward the ugly.

  “What is the plan?” Finn asked. “Maeve and I train for a day and the four of us head north with some graciously provided supplies?”

  “Something like that,” Rory said. “It’s a long way to the Red Tower and the roads aren’t often safe. I’ll lead a company full of younger warriors unaffected by The ávertach’s curse upon the Aos Sí.”

  She leaned over the table and pointed to a fort at the base of a mountainous peninsula and a town near the head of a long bay. North of them stood a tower at the end of a small strand, forming a triangle between them.

  “We will patrol the road between Uargal and Dóchasach,” Rory said. “I don’t know if and how he can summon help but we’re going to stop it from reaching him.” They read the unease on Finn’s face. “A small incursion is still the best plan, lad. So long as you keep quiet. The more people you bring, the earlier warning you give them.”

  Finn nodded.

  “We’re not waiting,” Maeve said. “We can’t wait.”

  Niall sighed. “Maeve—”

  “—We don’t have days, Niall. Not only do we have to find Siobhan, but we might stumble upon a Treasure. Already.”

  Oisín looked at Rory. “Can your people be ready?”

  Rory smiled. “They’re ready now, but you knew that.”

  “So I did. No need to be hasty, though. Granddaughter, your people are spending the night.”

  “That’s more like it,” Maeve said.

  Rory slid back their chair and stood, ready to leave. “It’s plenty of time for the three of you to have a talk with your friend before we leave tomorrow.”