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And once those cares left, the memories began to drift away too, until even one’s identity faded to oblivion and nothing remained but finding the day’s meal in the forest. My archdruid had called it the » last shift. « It was how Druids committed suicide.
    » So you have no idea who set Loki free? «
    Perun grimaced in regret. » He did not say. I knew nothing until I felt my world … burning. «
    Someone cleared his throat to my right. I turned to behold a faery—one of the flying kind, dressed up in the pompous green and silver livery of the Fae Court—hovering just out of throttling range. Gods below, how had he found me?
    » Hail, Siodhachan Ó Suileabháin, « he said, his voice redolent of scorn and aristocratic disgust, enunciated with such precision that one could hear capital letters, » the Supposedly Deceased. Brighid, First Among the Fae, summons you to an audience in her Court forthwith, there to answer Certain Questions, among which are Why are you still alive? and More Importantly, Why did you not inform Brighid of this Rather Important Fact? «
    I briefly considered making this messenger disappear. I could shake his hand—or otherwise make contact with him—and, as a creature made of magic, he would crumble to ash from the cold iron in my aura. But then Brighid would know something had happened to him, and she’d send more after me. Whatever displeasure she currently felt would only grow if I made her wait too long. Still, this was an extraordinarily inconvenient time to ask me over for tea—or whipping, or whatever else she had in mind.
    » I see. I am indisposed at the moment to attend the Fae Court. Will you bear her a message for me? «
    » No. I am to bear you to the Court or nothing withal. «
    His tone—especially combined with Elizabethan diction—finally annoyed me. Perhaps he needed to be reminded that I was not one of Brighid’s subjects. » Do you truly have the power to bear me there? « I asked him. » Are you immune to cold iron, sir? «
    His confident, supercilious manner withered, and he gulped. » No, « he admitted.
    » So this talk of bearing me hence is nothing more than bluster, yes? « I took a step toward him, and he back-winged. I gave him a thin smile.
    » Yes, « he said.
    » Good, « I said, and began to mock his affected accent and language. » It is most unfortunate that you may bear no messages back to your liege. Peradventure you may ask her a question, instead, the answer to which may speed my arrival thither. May I bring my companions—those you see here, including my hound—to Tír na nÓg under her personal aegis? I need a guarantee of safe conduct for us all to and from the Court. An affirmative answer will assure my immediate arrival. «
    » I will inquire. «
    » I will await her reply for five minutes only. «
    The faery nodded, said nothing, and touched the same tree we had used to shift here. He winked out of sight, shifting away, and I drew my sword.
    » Spread yourselves and be on your guard, « I said. » He may come back with friends. Or gods. «
    Oberon asked, › What if he comes back with snacks? ‹

Chapter 3
    Granuaile didn’t say anything, but I caught a tiny smile on her face as she palmed a throwing knife. I couldn’t read her mind, but I could read her expression well enough: She was thinking, Finally, some action. After twelve years of training and sparring with no one but me, here was the possibility of a real scrap. She took cover behind a different tree and crouched down.
    I hoped it wouldn’t come to any sort of fight. This was precisely the crucial period when I’d lost my last apprentice, Cíbran—at the end of his training but before I could get him bound to the earth and give him access to magic. Granuaile had trained both her mind and body extremely well, but she wouldn’t be able to survive the throw-downs I was used to fighting until she was able to speed herself up, boost her strength, and heal quickly using the magic