The Unseelie King finally ended up shooing the Dullahan away to listen to everything Megan had to say: the attacks, the ogres, the exiles, everything. From a few of his stray words, he'd apparently heard a few things already, but he stayed intent on her descriptions. He fidgeted occasionally whenever Megan mentioned his former seneschal, but asked for details and reiteration several times regarding Tiernan.
“Really, he said that? 'The age of mortal heroes is long past'? All that time in the dark has left him nearsighted. He's still thinking Culain's Hound and doesn't know what a hero these days looks like."
“Thanks, Dad. I think. I'm getting really tired of hounds, though.”
“A shame. I'm told that Victor is a fine fellow, though apparently the Kahuna regrets he has not yet learned to fetch an Allen wrench.”
“Victor's a real labrador, not a fake hound.”
“Granted, dearest. And I wish I could be of more help, but Fomoire were as plentiful and unique as very ugly snowflakes. It looks like you have plans of your own, though.”
"Okay, is there anything you can tell me about Murias, or the statue, or anything?"
"In its time, Murias was an extremely dangerous place."
"Compared to the city of the dead and all? Wasn't Murias like, kind of a library or something?"
"Precisely, dearest! The undead are a problem, no question. They proved that. But information, now that's dangerous on a grand scale. There's reasons the Fomoire sunk the city."
"So, what about the statue?"
"Very impressive workmanship."
"Right, but is there anything else to it?"
"Oh, I'd imagine quite a few things."
"As much as you appreciate information, I'm surprised you don't know. You'd have thought the fae would have gone through anything that had proved to be resistant to the Fomoire."
"I'd imagine they have, many times. Anything of use that's left down there isn't for our hands. Your secret compartment theory sounds quite plausible, dearest, but if so, that doesn't mean I could open it any more than the Fomoire could smash the statue."
"Wasn't Semias your ally, though?"
Riocard considered that for several seconds. "That's a very good question. We had common enemies, certainly."
"With the Fomoire, you'd think that whole enemy of my enemy thing would apply."
"Hm, you'd think. And sometimes you'd be right. But then things get complicated. Speaking of complicated, I understand you brought a souvenir from your visit with Tiernan?"
"He was poisoned. We couldn't just leave him."
"Certainly you could have. You chose not to. Tiernan will have to decide what that's worth, as will your captive."
"I wasn't thinking in terms of favors, and he's not a prisoner."
"If you like. But you'll probably find things much less complicated that way than if you called him a guest. The nice part about prisoners is that you can release them at any time."
"He's not a guest, because there are rules, and if Kerr got in trouble, Lani would freak out even if Kerr didn't. But he's not a prisoner, because Tiernan's weirdos aren't our enemies. We're meeting with him to discuss an alliance, right?"
"And when that meeting is over, perhaps we'll be allies. Until then, he's the person who made you fight a duel to get concessions out of him, and who remains a somewhat bitter exile."
"Right, so don't trust him, but still, whenever he wasn't just being a xenophobic jerk, he seemed to have some points."
"Indeed he does. He always has. While rather missing the target entirely in other areas."
"Like the whole mortal heroes thing?"
"Very like that thing, yes."
"So, how does that work? Are there like, prophecies and stuff?"
"Sometimes. But most often, more often than a lot of the stories would like you to believe, really, heroes are just those who rise to the occasion."
Megan was about to ask more questions when the Dullahan poked his head in again. Even as many times as she'd seen him, Megan still wasn't prepared for the fact that that involved the head being held in one hand, then stuck through the door. "More visitors to meet with Your Majesty."
Riocard nodded. "One moment, I have a royal visitor but shall see to the others soon."
Megan shook her head. "Dad, I'm not..."
"You are, and you should get used to it. Like titles or no, it's one more weapon in your arsenal. And you'll need them all. Now, was there anything else?"
Megan thought about that a moment, then nodded. "The boatman isn't a prisoner or a guest. He's a patient. He'll be discharged for the meeting with Tiernan, no strings attached."
"Very well, and very good. They may appreciate that, or grow more suspicious. But either way, I approve of freedom without strings."
"I think that's it. Thank you, Dad. Good luck."
"You too. Come to me when next you know enough to need anything. Cut in line if you can. In the meantime, I'm sure your Miss Kahale will do something terribly clever. The two of you always seem to keep up with each other, after all.”
Chapter 18: Revelations with Illustrations
Megan returned to the water, paced for some time, and was just starting to panic when the pair emerged again, with Nell mostly pulling Lani through the water, so Lani, her diving bag already bulging, could hang on to several dozen sealed scrollcases. Once they were pulled up onto the shore, Lani deposited everything at the group's feet. "I think there might be something in there."
"So there was something hidden in the statue after all?"
Lani grinned. "Sort of. Mostly keys, and a library directory."
Nell nodded. "I didn't even notice it. I think it was a mortal thing."
Megan grinned. "So Mr. Subtle wanted to make sure nobody more immortal could get the run of his stuff and warded his security stash accordingly.”
"Something like that," Lani said. "So we used it to try to find anything sealed well enough not to be ruined. That place is amazing. I want to spend a lot more time down there."
"But not today," Megan said. "Everybody pick up a few scrolls."
“Good luck with that,” Nell said. “I'm going to rest here for a moment, just swim without pressure.”
They moved from the water, up the path, and then a short distance up a sheer rock face, with Cassia helping the cats up, into a cave with enough room for the group. Ashling lit up brightly enough to give everyone some light, even enough by which to examine the acquisitions.
“What did you find?" Megan asked
Lani sat, and started to open one scroll. "Stories. Lots and lots of stories of the fae, the Gods, and battles with the Fomoire. With illustrations."
Megan sat, starting to open another one. "They didn't destroy those?"
Lani unrolled her scroll, and grinned. "Oh, the 'Fomoire' section of the library had been completely razed. All those scholarly records on their weaknesses destroyed. But the directory in the statue mentioned a sealed picture-book auxiliary for every wing of the library. Very intricate locks, but that's what the keys were for. All just a matter of reading the charts.”
"All right, so we're looking for stories of shapeshifters, three of them." Megan started trying to read, but found her Gaelic wasn't nearly good enough. Thankfully, some of the scrolls did bear illustrations as well, so she started sifting through the pictures, and trusting the faeries to handle the reading.
A picture caught Megan's eye. “Ugh. Who's this guy?” she asked. “Not who we're looking for, but....” She gestured to the illustration in front of her, of a giant, large enough to hold a struggling human soldier in one hand, bringing the captive towards a maw that reminded her more of a shark's than anything human. The figure's eyes were small and black, but despite the scroll being more than a millennium old, Megan swore the widely-spaced eyes were following her.
"But he kind of stands out, doesn't he?" Cassia said, glancing at the picture.
"Yeah, he's even creepy as a five-inch picture." Megan said.
"That
's Indech, the so-called son of Chaos and Darkness, the Gray King, the..." Ashling began, before Megan interrupted her.
"So, important enough guy to have lots of titles?"
"One of the Fomoire Kings," Cassia agreed. "And yes, scary enough to have gotten all the honorifics. Balor was willing to work with him. The big, intricately-connected family probably helped."
Megan nodded. "So, I'm guessing that his children were even worse, and uglier?"
"Actually," said Ashling, pointing to the lines just a short distance further down the page, “'His daughter—' there's a bit of a smudge here '—has a beautiful and powerful voice and is willing to sing against her own people. Congratulations to the Dagda, Lord of Great Knowledge and....' okay, the best way I can translate this bit so you'd understand it is 'Player Who Will Always Play.'"
“...So a Fomoire princess switched sides because of...flirting?” Megan asked.
“The Dagda's way with the ladies had military implications more than once, I've heard,” Cassia said.
“So what happened to this Indech guy?”
"He and the Dagda had a few encounters,” Ashling said. “Over the daughter thing, and the first soccer match, back when the Dagda was refining it."
Megan sighed. "Okay, I'll bite. Who plays a soccer game with their deadliest enemies?”
"The Irish. The Scots. Most of South America. Huge swathes of the world take soccer very seriously.”
Ignoring Ashling's story, Lani chimed in, pointing to the scroll. “As to what happened to him, well, remember, this was written before Murias fell, shortly before the last battle of Mag Tuired. I think I read somewhere that Indech died there.”
“He fell,” came a ringing voice. “Many fell, from Gods to mortals and all between.” Orlaith, radiant as a slightly-marred sunrise, stepped into the cave, neatly navigating around rock outcroppings and small stalactites without so much as looking down. “Not everyone stayed down.”
Everyone rose, then bowed. Megan was glad Nell had hung back, or there'd be issues from her.
“Hello, Majesty,” Megan said. “Did you see what happened to this Indech guy?”
“I was … preoccupied.” The Seelie Queen didn't blink. She didn't touch her face. Her hand didn't twitch—and Megan had looked to see. Whatever PTSD she'd had last year on the subject of the battle, she had clearly filed under Been There, Done That—or else, at least, Not In Front of the Children. “But many were brought away in those moments, and while Indech had lost his daughter, he had other bards and healers. No one can be entirely sure precisely who was driven alive under the lake and who was not. There are even rumors of their dragging Faerie prisoners in with them.”
Megan shivered, and while Orlaith remained serene, she did not seem to disagree.
The Queen continued to speak, her voice becoming a little firmer even in its shining oratory. “And as we speak of prisoners—”
“He's a patient,” Megan interrupted. “Sorry, Majesty, but he is. That's it. A patient. He'll be discharged as soon as possible.”
There was a long pause. Megan wondered if it ran in the family.
“I see,” Orlaith said. “And you may see more, soon.” She turned with perfect grace and walked away, making her way back out of the cave with the same easy grace. She didn't even have to climb, just ascending back to the top of the cliffs on a bridge of light.
Once she was gone, they sat again, one by one, and slowly started looking through the available materials again.
Lani was the one who finally found something, holding up her scroll. "I've seen this picture before."
"Where?" Megan asked, moving to take a look.
"Your sketch. I need someone to double check it, but those eyes are kind of distinct, and whoever drew this one thought so too."
Ashling read part of the story, finally getting to the names. “The MacTuireann brothers: Brian, Iuchar, and Iucharba.”
Megan frowned and tapped the illustration that resembled her previous sketch. “What is it with Brians in my life? Brian O'Neill raising dead warlords. Brian MacTuireann turning into fake animals at me. Brian Branum breaking my Halloween mask when we were in fifth grade.”
“One of these things is not like the others,” Lani said.
“I spent a lot of time painting that mask. So. They are Fomoire?”
“Part Fomoire. And murderers,” Ashling said. "Can we cut them open and guess which part is which?"
“How were they dealt with before?” Megan asked.
“Looks like mostly Lugh threatened them a lot,” Lani said. “Scared them into situations where they'd get hurt.”
“I'm sure that'd work great if I were a god,” Megan replied, shaking her head.
“Their strength isn't strength itself,” Justin said, sitting behind Megan. “They don't have raw power. They're scouts. Hunting hounds, almost literally.”
“I am so sick of fake dogs,” Megan muttered. Then she blinked. “Wait... we've got our own dogs...”
“I don't think Victor will be much help,” Lani said.
“No, no,” Megan muttered. “Ashling, does anything you've seen of them or that it says here suggest they've got those weird shielding protection sorceries that O'Neill had?”
“Nope,” Ashling said. “They've got standard Fomoire sadism supplies, animal-shifting, and that's it.”
Cassia smiled. “I think I get it. Yeah, we've got a full name. They're into dogs? They'll see some dogs. Oh, yeah. Let's do it. Let's get Ric to call for the Huntsman.”
“We've got three full names,” Lani said. “The Wild Hunt can only target one.”
“Definitely the Brian,” Megan muttered.
“Agreed,” said Justin. “The other two may well be too stupid to get out of the way.”
Chapter 19: The Hunt
"So, I've seen the hounds up close, and I've heard the stories and all. We're sure this is going to work?" Megan said.
"Oh, it will work. If the hunt is called, once they scent their prey—and this time, there's no reason they shouldn't—they'll track them to the ends of the worlds," Cassia said. "Besides, I'm going with them, and so are the boys. You sure you don't want to come along?"
Megan shook her head. "I know it needs to happen, or they'll kill us. But I don't think I'm quite up for, well, tearing people apart. Besides, I wouldn't be able to keep up."
"That's part of the fun of getting called to the hunt," Cassia said, with an increasingly wild look in her eyes. "It will make sure you can. Of course, people have been known to drop dead of exhaustion afterwards."
"Then I'm definitely not going,” Megan answered. “I still have things to do.”
"Your loss. What better way to die?" Cassia said, scritching Maxwell's ears.
Nell sighed. She was still looking around nervously, not happy about the close call even if Orlaith hadn't come near her. “So should I tell Violet anything if you never come home again?”
"Yeah, tell her to throw me a party: booze, chicks, the works, and no sappy music. And she can have my CDs. Even the signed Black Flag album. But if I'm just mostly dead, I'm coming back for it.”
Another sigh. "Okay, so I held up my end of things. Can someone please get me out of here, quietly?" Nell asked.
"I know a stage left. And it probably doesn't even have a bear right now," Ashling said.
Nell narrowed her eyes. "And bears are normally a problem here?"
Ashling nodded firmly. "I mean, you know the portal close to An Teach Deiridh, well patrolled and all, so no problems there. But most of them, stage exits are a natural habitat for bears."
Nell exchanged a glance with Megan and sighed once more. "Pixies. Okay, so we can get there without an audience?"
"Right this way," Ashling answered cheerfully, guiding the Count out over the water, leading the siren on the apparently very secret route.
Megan, along with the rest of the group, proved able to cut in line, as Riocard had suggested, especially when Cassia brought up mention of the Wild Hunt. A nu
mber of the fae, especially the Unseelie, left the line entirely, and others broke off into groups, talking excitedly.
Riocard took a moment to consider the request, but soon agreed. "Removing some difficult scouts and treasure hunters seems like an excellent use for the Huntsman."
Megan glanced at her friends, then back at her father. "There's a limit to when the Hunt can be called?"
Riocard nodded. "Once per year, at most. It has a way of taking a significant toll on those who get caught up in it. But we're fine for this. I've been too busy to have any fun this reign.”
"You wouldn't rather save it for, you know, the war starting or something?" Megan felt a little guilty, after they'd gone to the effort, but she felt like she had to ask.
"No, dearest. The hunt in the middle of warfare is just asking for trouble, and a lot of casualties. Far better to deny them their sources of information and resources on this side while they're isolated. You have the right idea, I believe."
Megan, not about to argue any further, followed her dad to the Huntsman. The tall, armored figure was near a ruined arch, formally standing guard over nothing, with two of the monstrous—but not evil shapeshifter—hounds resting nearby. After her last encounter with them, Megan was hesitant to approach the hounds, and, judging by the fact they lifted their heads, glancing her way, she suspected they could smell that nervousness.
Despite Justin's assurances that he could be dealt with diplomatically, the Huntsman was, if anything, worse. She had never seen him up close before. She'd always assumed the antlers were part of the helmet, but it was more like Cassia's, with careful spaces cut to work around the natural antlers. Megan was pretty sure the temperature didn't actually drop ten degrees when she got within fifteen feet of him, but it took a few moments to actually convince herself.
Justin, on the other hand, walked right up to one of the giant hounds, offering a hand. The dog clambered to its feet, and it was all Megan could do to not try to pull Justin away. She was glad she resisted, however, as the dog just sniffed his hand, then rubbed its forehead against the extended hand, while the other came over to idly investigate as well. As Megan slowly worked up the courage to join him and offer a hand, her father moved to speak quietly with the Huntsman.
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