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Meg studied her surroundings as Cara led her into what looked
like a small marketplace. There were stalls with vendors hawking
their wares in odd languages. She had calmed down from her initial
rage and terror. Now she could concentrate on her surroundings.
The gnome had mentioned that she didn’t speak Gaelic. This was
the language that was spoken all around her now. It made sense in a
weird way. The creatures around her appeared to be straight out of
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Sophie Oak
Irish lore. Gaelic was the ancient language of Ireland. While she was
bound in the tent, she had decided to use a little of her old literature
training to figure out what Beck was. It was obvious he didn’t think of
himself as human. From the way the gnomes treated him, Meg had
come to the conclusion that he was a faery of some kind. From the
looks of him, he was more than likely a sidhe. They were the human-
looking faeries and the ruling class. She wondered which tribe he
came from. Human myths broke the Fae into two tribes, the Seelie
and the Unseelie. The Seelie were the blessed, shining ones while the
Unseelie held all the monsters the Fae had to offer. She rather thought
him a Seelie. She hadn’t gotten a look at his ears. According to some
lore, they should be slightly pointed. Of course, not all myths were
proving true in this strange place. The vampire was proof of that since
he was walking around in the daylight.
“Hey, vampire guy, shouldn’t you be all crispy and fried by
now?” Meg asked bluntly because he seemed like a blunt kind of
man.
Dellacourt stopped in his tracks and laughed. “Damn, she really is
from the Earth plane. Darling, the vampires there are idiots who got
lost and couldn’t find their way back. I read all the DLs on the
subject. Horrifying stuff, really. You see, your sun is different. It has a bad effect on my kind, see? It puts us into a weird fugue state during
