“There it is,” said Donu.

  The alabaster merlons and crenelations of Airthaile peeked over the furthest crest in the road. It stood on a small jut of land where the forest on the left yielded to a middling range of mountains. It stood seven yards wide and two levels high, not including the roof. Finn saw no door on ground level; instead, a stone staircase ringed its rounded exterior until it met a door on the tower’s upper level.

  “Is this ‘tether’ of yours up there?” Niall asked. “Or is it hidden in thon hills?”

  “Follow me,” Donu said. She led the group around to the side tower that faced the sea until they stood in front of a double door weathered by waves and the salt air. Every dimple, gouge and crack radiated sky blue light.

  “Why is it glowing?” Finn asked.

  “Why is what glowing?” Maeve asked. “The door?”

  “It’s not the type of magic most rangers or warriors can see,” Donu said. She extended her right hand toward the crack between the doors, all five fingers pointed forward, and spun her hand. A brighter light appeared and expanded vertically in both directions. When the blue light reached the edges of the doorway it stretched toward both sides of the doorjamb. The entire threshold flashed blue light and then dimmed to nothing.

  “That I saw,” Maeve said.

  Donu pulled the doors outward. “Here we are.”

  The entire main level of Airthaile was empty except for three large pointed stones arranged in a perfect triangle six feet wide. Donu extended her hands, palms facing each other. She lowered them in a sudden motion, twisting her palms to the dirt floor. Symbols scrawled themselves in amber light down the length of the stones and illuminated the windowless room.

  Finn recognized them as Ogham—similar to the ones etched into the Red Tower’s cellar floor. If not for the light that glowed from them, this would be a classic example of the old language’s use.

  Donu stepped forward, clenched her right hand into a fist and uttered her first incantation of the day: “Oscail tairsea? ?uig an talam—” She paused, as if the last word had to fight its way free of her mouth. “Banríon.” She opened her hand with a flick of her wrist. A large sphere of red swirling light, similar to the one through which Finn reached Tír fo Thuinn, expanded from nothing in the space between the stones.

  “In you go,” Donu said.

  “Our friends are on the other side?” Niall asked.

  “They’re meant to be,” Donu said. “Take it up with my sister if they’re not.”

  “Not to sound ungrateful,” Finn asked. “It’s more of a curiosity, really. Why a portal instead of a doorway? Don’t they provide the same service traveling across the same world?”

  Donu shrugged. “A tent and a cottage provide the same service. Where would you rather sleep tonight?”

  Finn nodded. He fired out his arm to stop the movement in his periphery. “Not a chance.”

  “Sorry?” Maeve said.

  “I’m going first,” he said.

  “Fine,” Maeve said with a scoff.

  Here I come, Shiv.

  It was all Finn could do to stop himself from leaping into the portal. He slowed before making contact, raising a hand out of reflex to protect his face. The portal pulled him in as soon as his elbow broke the surface. Just as quickly, it jerked him backwards and stopped his momentum as he stepped through the other side.

  In time, he’d recognize all the ways in which this land differed from Tír fo Thuinn. The air warmed him and the smell of salt air had left him. The vibrance of color in the surrounding plants and trees fooled his eyes into mistaking it for brightness. For now, all he could see were long red curls and beaming green eyes.

  Siobhan MacSweeney roused from her nap against a hawthorn tree twelve yards from the portal.

  She reached her feet seconds before Finn enveloped her in his arms. He lifted and spun her around him.

  “—Wait!” she said.

  Finn set her down. She stepped backward and held him at arm’s length.

  “What’s wrong?” Finn asked, noting the look of fear in his eyes.

  “You came through a portal!” she said. “Wh-What land did you come from?”

  “Tír fo Thuinn,” he said. “Did you know these lands—”

  “—Thank goodness,” she said, her eyes welling. She grabbed the sides of his face, hooked her fingers around the base of his head and pulled him into a kiss. For a moment the weariness of his travels left him. Worries about his friends and home slipped into the back of his mind.

  “Here for less than a minute and you two are already shifting instead of working,” Maeve said.

  Finn parted from Siobhan to find Maeve standing near the portal, smiling for the first time since leaving the Red Tower. Siobhan bounded toward her friend.

  “Howya, MacSweeney?” Maeve said. The two shared a brief hug before Maeve spun her away from the portal. “Room for one more,” she said.

  Niall emerged from the sphere and showed Siobhan a broad smile. Finn approached the group and peered over Niall’s shoulder into the portal.

  “Are you all clear of it?” Donu asked.

  “Sure we are,” Finn said. “So are you coming?”

  Donu cackled for a few seconds and then quieted. “You’re serious. You couldn’t reach in and drag me through.”

  “I understand,” Finn said. “Still, I’d like to thank—”

  Donu smiled and squeezed her open hand into a fist and the portal closed before Finn could finish his sentence.

  “What was that about?” Siobhan asked.

  Maeve shook her head. “Never you mind. I’m just glad to be rid of her.”

  “Let’s get to the house," Siobhan said. "I know some people waiting impatiently for you.”

  Niall caught Siobhan’s shoulder before she spun away from the group. “Listen, lass, there is something you should know before continue.”

  Siobhan’s brow furrowed. “Such as?”

  “—Hang on,” Maeve said. “You didn’t ask us where Fergal was.”

  Siobhan pursed her lips and exhaled slowly through her nose. “I know well where Fergal is. He’s at the house with Brigid and Brendan.”

  Maeve reached for Siobhan with the back of her fingers. “He is? Wha-How?”

  Siobhan pointed to the stones. “Donn, of all people, sent him through that thing less than two hours ago.”

  Finn grabbed Siobhan’s hand. “I see.”

  “I can’t—I can’t,” Maeve said.

  “He’s been out of your sight for less than two hours and you’ve already forgotten the kind of man he is?” Siobhan asked. “Get your arse in there or you’ll have done something actually deserving of an apology.”

  Maeve bobbed her chin. “Yes, boss.”

  Finn threw his arm around Siobhan as they headed to the cottage. “Why were you sitting by yourself out here?”

  “We have nine people and a dog in one home right now,” Siobhan said. “Brigid did the best she could, but losing the three of you left me with most of the big decisions. Could you imagine all the bickering I’ve dealt with?”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “I might have an idea,” Niall said.

  “Did you say there was a dog?" Finn asked. "Whose is it?”

  Siobhan reached up and patted Finn’s hand on her outside shoulder. “Ours, if Donal has his say. It’s been a long few days. Lots to catch up on.”

  Donal’s head was the second part of his body to hit the floor, preceded only by his right fist. He reached over to Brendan, hooked his heel, and pulled until sorcerer was next to him on the floor.

  “Oi!” Brendan said. “What was that for?”

  Donal rubbed his eyes and then scratched his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I was sleeping. Dya’know how hard it is to nap in a chair? Why are you waking me?”

  “Because Siobhan’s been yelling your name ever since she reached shouting distance,” Brendan. “Better go outside and see what it is.”

  “It’s probably just the hound up to something,” Donal said, rising to his feet. “Brendan, please, can you go check on it for me?”

  “Naw, you should go handle it yourself,” Brendan said as he stood and walked to a seat next to Ciara. “Besides, I’ve got a claim on your chair when you’re done with it.”

  Donal's eyes narrowed as he dipped them towards Brendan's new perch.

  "Yours is padded," Brendan said, the corners of his mouth curling into a grin. He winked at his sister, his other eye twinkling.

  Brigid responded with a weak smile under her thousand-yard stare.

  Fergal had slid Danu’s harp from the stairs and set two stools in the corner. His back and head rested against the rear wall. Brigid’s lower half occupied the stool next to him, her upper half blanketed Fergal’s chest. Fergal raised his head and buried his chin in her red hair. “It’ll be fine, lad,” he said, matching the gleam in Brendan’s eye. “If you want your chair when you come back, I’ll make him give it up.”

  “Grand,” Donal said, opting not to suss out the pair’s odd interaction. He rubbed his eyes and stepped toward the door. As he reached for his spear he caught Ciara leaning into Brendan.

  “Do you have to be so clever about everything?” she muttered as Brendan sat next to her.

  Brendan wrinkled his brow, shook his head and raised his fingers from the table to make a gentle halting gesture. “It’s one of your favorite things about me,” he said.

  “Until it’s not,” Ciara said. She raised a hand from her lap and wrapped it around his. She let slip a begrudging smile. “Mind that.”

  Maura shook her head and sighed as she rubbed the hair from her mother’s forehead.

  “I’m coming,” Donal said as he cleared the doorway. “Y’know, not everything that animal does—”

  The spear slipped out of his right hand and clattered on the ground. “You’re here!”

  He sprinted the ten yards between himself and his comrades. Finn grunted as Donal drove a shoulder into his chest. Finn threw his arms around his brother and the pair stabilized into a proper hug.

  “Don’t worry,” Siobhan said. “They arrived from the expected place.”

  Donal frowned at her. “I wasn’t worried about that until you spoke it.”

  Maeve hooked her hand under his near arm. “Come here, lad,” she said as she pulled him into an embrace. “Finn’s all yours,” she said. “I’ve had my fill of keeping him out of trouble.”

  “I wouldn’t mind you taking them both,” Niall said. He craned his neck, seemingly to peek through the windows. “Can I see my wife now?”

  “Not yet,” Siobhan said. “I’ve left out one vital piece of information.”

  “Is it worse than Caragh losing her arm?” Niall asked.

  “Not at all,” Siobhan said. “Remember the local woman I told you of, the young lass who journeyed with us? I never told you Maura’s last name.”

  Niall sighed. “Let me guess. She’s a MacMenamin.”

  “It’s worse than that," Siobhan said with a grin. "She’s a MacRannell.” She dipped her chin and raised her eyebrows, waiting for the realization to hit him.

  Niall knitted his brow and shook his head as he processed the news. “It can’t be!” he said, throwing down the spare buckler and his sword. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” he yelled over his shoulder as he ran for the door.

  Siobhan cupped a hand to her face. “Because I’m tired and I didn’t want to chase—" She lowered her hand. "And he’s gone inside.”

  “So the first friendly stranger you met led you to Niall’s wife and daughter?” Finn asked.

  “First and only,” Siobhan said. “Everyone else barely looked at us.”

  Maeve shrugged. “The odds are better than you think, Finn. Anyone willing to approach a group so woefully out of place as us? They’d have little worry about reaching out to a new mother and her wein.”

  “Ana told us leading Caragh through Derglocha was intentional,” Siobhan said.

  Finn slapped Maeve’s arm. “C’mon with you,” he said. “Let’s go meet your baby sister.” He turned toward the house, oblivious to Maeve's glare.

  Siobhan hooked Maeve around her waist. “We’ll do this together.”

  Donal jogged ahead to catch Finn. “No prying questions for me? No digging in my mind?”

  “Plenty of time for that. You’re alive. S’all that matters.”

  Donal crossed the threshold and found Niall kneeling next to Caragh’s makeshift bed. Maura stood between them, hands on her hips, her body facing her mother. She shuffled a foot on the floor as she watched her parents.

  Caragh squeezed Niall’s hand. “I’ve heard Tír fo Thuinn can be a cold place,” she said, “but your hand is absolutely foundered! Do you need a fire to warm it up?”

  “Not a fire in hell could help him with that,” Donal said. “That doesn’t look like your glove, uncle.”

  “Picked up another along the way,” Niall said as he pulled the glove off, finger by finger. He extended his silver hand over Caragh, twisting it in the midday light leaking through the front window.

  Carragh bobbed her head. "For a moment I had forgotten that bit of news," she said.

  Maura turned toward him and gingerly extended her hand toward his. “May I?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Niall said.

  She touched the back of his hand and traced the silver up his arm to where it folded into his natural skin.

  “We have a son of Goibniu back home who built it for me,” Niall said. “And then a whole litter of MacSweeneys helped fix it to my body. Now it works as if I were born with it.”

  Maura’s hand slid back down his arm and hand. She fiddled with the tip of his thumb, tracing the digit down until her four fingers rested in his palm. “Remarkable.”

  Niall closed his hand around hers and smiled. “I suppose so.”

  Maeve entered the room and bypassed the reunited family in favor of the couple in the corner. She knelt in front of their stools and stammered for a moment. “I don’t know what to say,” she said, “except I’m sorry.”

  “Told ya,” Fergal said to Brigid with a smile.

  Brigid let a hollow chuckle slip. “That you did, love,” she said. “Lass, we’ll need you to stop before you get yourself heated. You’re no more at fault than I, or Niall, or Fergal, or anyone else. We all knew the risks, and not a person here would be denied from coming.”

  “Told ya,” Finn and Siobhan said to Maeve in unison. They looked at each other with a faint look of surprise, smiled, and tilted the sides of their heads together.

  Maeve groaned and looked back at Brigid. “What happens now?”

  “We carry on,” Brigid said. “Our mission hasn’t changed.”

  “Other than trying not to die a second time,” Fergal said. “I don’t want to end up a wein to some family in Carlow or whatever happens to us… Otherworldians?”

  “You didn’t ask Donn what would happen?” Finn asked. “Would have been grand to know how it all works here.”

  “He was taking me to see Brigid,” Fergal said. “I didn’t care about much else in that moment, frankly.”

  “Next time, you be sure to write it in a scroll for himself here,” Maeve said to Fergal. “It will make good kindling in that fireplace.”

  “Can’t write,” Fergal said.

  “Even better,” Maeve said.

  “Lass,” Caragh said to Maeve, “let me have a look at you.”

  Maeve stood and walked over to Niall and Caragh with small steps.

  “You’re stunning,” Caragh said. “The way Murrough talks of you, I’d have expected an oak trunk wrapped in leather.”

  Maeve took a step back and tilted her head. “Dya’mean by that?”

  Caragh waved her free hand. “No, dear, that’s a compliment. He describes you as unyielding. Undeterred by the situation. I just didn’t expect that type of person to be wrapped in so lovely a package.”

  Maeve’s eyes dropped to the floor and she fell silent. “Thank you, Mrs. MacRannell. Sorry to hear you share your husband’s struggles with poetry.”

  Caragh laughed herself into a cough. “Thank you, lass, for looking after my husband all these years. I hope he hasn’t rubbed off on you.”

  “Wouldn’t be the worst thing if he had,” Maeve said, grinning at Niall.

  Finn stepped toward the family. “You’re Maura?”

  “You’re the brother?”

  “I am.”

  “So you’re the one teaching Donal to take all those liberties in battle?”

  Finn stepped back. “Liberties?”

  “He’s too reckless,” Maura said. “He’ll get himself killed. Volunteering to get hit with lightning. Trying to make friends with the beasts aiming to do us in. You missed that cut he had on his head before Herself healed it.”

  At least I'm not on the getting end of it this time, Donal thought.

  “In truth,” Finn said, “with his training—” He looked at Niall, Donal’s teacher and frequent sparring partner. Niall showed Finn the entire whites of his eyes, a feat previously thought impossible given the man’s weathered face. It was clear what he wanted Finn to do.

  “—I could have done a better job, that’s for sure,” Finn said. He smiled at Niall, who clapped his shoulder.

  “See that you do,” Maura said. “Or perhaps I will.”

  Finn pointed a finger at Maura and looked at Siobhan. “So this is the one who he—”

  Siobhan pushed his hand down and leaned close. “No, we left her in Derglocha,” she muttered, doing her best not to move her mouth. “It’s a little messy.”

  “I disappear for only a few days and look what happens,” he whispered.

  “He gets to be a person?” Siobhan whispered.

  Donal leaned in from behind. “Both Maura and I can hear you.”

  Finn looked back at Maura, who stood with her arms folded and eyebrows raised. “Right,” he said. “My apologies. I’ve been gone. There’s a brave amount of information I need to know.”

  “Not as much as you think, though,” Maura said.

  Another shadow crossed the threshold.

  “Look at all of you,” Ana said. “You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve had so many in my wee home."

  Finn’s jaw hung open. “You must be—”

  “—Indeed I must,” Ana said. “And you must be the one with the questions.” She looked around the room. I’ll make a deal with you—all of you, really. Help me prepare a meal for twelve people and I’ll answer all the questions I can.”

  Donal caught the glazed look in his brother’s eyes. “If that’s what you’re offering, you might want help with the supper as well.”