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When we were standing by the portal leading back to Talamh Lonrach Oll, I stopped her. “How is this portal guarded? What if some kid comes up and decides to explore the pretty sparkles?”
She laughed then. “You see this because it is of your heritage—Fae magic. But mortals do not see the portal, nor will they sense it unless they are gifted with the Sight like your detective. And even if they sense it, they cannot pass without the activation words. Yes,” she added with an impish grin that suddenly made her look all too young and playful, “we password-protect our portals.”
Aeval whispered the keyword (taking pains to keep it out of earshot), the portal opened, and we slipped back through to the barrow palace. She led us back into the throne room and bade us sit, while calling for cups of hot cider.
“As I was saying, Jac-O HorseTail was the son of one of the Long-Cutter Gray Sisters, and he was a loner. Even in the darker realms of the Unseelie, there are outcasts and misfits. He was a vicious and evil creature, but he was lonely. The goblin befriended him—perhaps he anticipated a reward, or perhaps he truly found a friendship with the creature. Either way, Jac-O’s mother was so grateful that she did what many mothers do. She gave the goblin a gift. She changed him, made him far more powerful than he could have ever hoped to become as a regular goblin. And so Stollen Kom Lightly was born—the Bog Eater.”
“He’s considered one of the Elder Fae, isn’t he?” I was running through my memory, trying to dredge up what I’d been taught about him.
“Yes. And his first act was to kill and eat Jac-O HorseTail. That, of course, did not sit well with Jac-O’s mother or her sisters, and so they laid a curse on him to wander through bog and marsh, ever hungry, never able to sufficiently fill his belly. They could not kill him—Jac-O’s mother had made him almost invincible—but they could curse him with a miserable existence.”
Delilah cleared her throat. “I vaguely remember mention of that story in childhood but didn’t remember the names.”
“The Bog Eater will forever starve, no matter how much he eats. He’s always hungry, and he hates all who are happy and filled with life. It was thought Lugh the Long Handed killed him in battle before the Great Divide, but apparently we were wrong. The energy I sensed through that portal was dark and boggy, and the smell of peat rang thick. I know the Bog Eater is in there, somewhere. But behind him stands an even stronger shadow—the female energy I sensed. And that shadow—that is where your detective has gone. I do not think the shadow is for good, but I cannot tell for sure.” She fell silent.
I didn’t want to ask the question but had to. I especially didn’t want to ask it with Delilah around. “Do you think Chase is still alive, considering that the Bog Eater is hiding there?”
Delilah cringed, but Aeval didn’t pay any attention.
“Your detective has gone into the shadow behind the Bog Eater. Whether he is alive, I do not know. But the Bog Eater did not gobble him up—that I can tell. Chase’s signature still trails, so my best guess is that yes, he is alive.”
Delilah breathed a sigh of relief at the same time I did, although I didn’t want to think about what might be happening to him. That would be too much to deal with, so I focused on the next order of business.
“How can we get in there to save him?” The thought of getting past the Bog Eater—an Elder Fae—was terrifying, but if Menolly could deal with the Maiden of Karask, we could cope with the Bog Eater.
Aeval crooked her head to the side, a faint smile on her face. “I can rip open their portal, but I will not go in with you. I’ve better things to do with my time. But you should go soon—tomorrow at the latest.”
Leaning back, I closed my eyes. This was all too much. To come home to the news about Hyto and now—this? I wanted to scream.
“Tomorrow then? Day or night?”
“Day. I am no vampire; I can walk abroad during the daylight hours. The two of you—no more—be here by noonsong, and bring your weapons. You will need them. Remember: The full-blooded Fae love silver. A silver blade will be of use, but not as much as cold steel.” She looked at me. “Or iron. You know of what I speak.”
And with that, she dismissed us.
We headed out to the cart, and Delilah took the reins, guiding the horse back to the parking lot. She tucked me in the passenger seat of the Lexus and I dozed all the way home, unable to even verbalize my thoughts.
By the time we reached home, I’d caught a little bit of a second wind, but it wouldn’t last long. The three-story Victorian had never seemed so welcoming, and I wearily pulled myself up the porch steps. Once we were inside, we found everybody still up, waiting to hear what had happened. We ran down the gist of what had happened at Talamh Lonrach Oll, and then, before anybody could say a word, I raised my hand for silence.
“Somebody call Menolly at the bar and fill her in. I need to go to bed.” I stood up, all too aware of the aching in my body that cried out for peace and relief from the chill.
Smoky stood. “She’s correct. We were hard pressed in the Northlands. Iris, you need your rest also. We can discuss this over breakfast.” He swept me into his arms, and—followed by Trillian—carried me up the stairs.
I leaned against him; the scent of cool wind and snow clung to his shirt, and his ankle-length silver hair reached around to caress my arm. We stopped in Morio’s room first—he had been set up in my study, in a hospital bed. Although he was allowed to sit up and even walk a bit, my youkai-kitsune needed every ounce of energy he could conserve in order to heal.
His topaz eyes flashed with a smile as the three of us entered the room. Trillian checked to make sure Morio had plenty of water and snacks, and Smoky deposited me in the chair next to the hospital bed. I leaned against the mattress and reached out to take Morio’s hand.
He had dark hair, long enough to trail down his back, and he was of Japanese descent, lean and wiry, strong as a demon—which, in essence, he was. In his fox form, he could dart rings around Delilah, and in his demonic form, he towered over everyone, eight feet of fighting machine.
Now he just looked a little tired, but the color was returning to his cheeks and he seemed in good spirits.
“Are you feeling better, my love?” I leaned over and kissed his lips.
“Only a few weeks till I’m allowed back on my feet. I’m still tired, but I can tell my health is returning.” He brushed back my hair and trailed his hand down my cheek. “I’m so glad you’re home safe. They told me you made it back but that you were immediately called out. How’s Iris? Did she accomplish her mission?”
“She did. I’ll let Smoky tell you about our trip. Meanwhile, I just want to rest and sleep.”
Trillian took my hand, guiding me up. He turned to Smoky. “Camille’s weary. We can take away her fatigue.” The corners of his lips turned up in a faint smile.
