McKale would return this evening and be briefed on his part. When I asked how we’d talk to McKale with the pixie there, Brogan assured me that the Leprechauns had done their share of battling pixies in the past. He said they knew how to deal with the little bugger.
Kitchen workers brought out trays of cheese sandwiches with pickles and jugs of mild ale. It was starting to get dark as everyone sat down to eat. Cassidy held my hand through most of the meal, and we sat with our hips touching. I glanced down at the equipment, which had been covered with waterproof tarps in case it rained overnight. My eyes darted to the tree line. Nothing there but trees. I took a large gulp of ale to wash down the bite of bread that had lodged in my dry throat. Half a sandwich was all I could manage.
“Walk with me?” came a voice above me.
I looked up at my father’s handsome face and glanced at Cassidy.
“I’ll be okay,” she told me. Mom leaned over from Cassidy’s other side and smiled at me, patting my sister’s leg. She wouldn’t let Cass out of her sight. I stood and took the crook of Dad’s arm, letting him lead me away from everyone.
When we were well out of hearing range he rubbed my hand.
“So… eighteen tomorrow, eh?”
“Yeah.” I thought about saying something lighthearted, but didn’t have it in me.
We ended up by the animal holdings. I sat down and leaned against a fence post, giggling when one of the young goats stuck his head through and nuzzled my neck.
“Quit it,” I said, pushing him away.
“They like you.” Dad squatted in front of me and admired the gaggle of goats that stood at my back.
“That’s ‘cause I feed them.”
He smiled and watched the animals until the mood between us grew serious again.
“There are things I planned to tell you when you turned eighteen, even before all this happened. You know, whether it feels like it or not, you’ll be doing a duty for the Fae by binding with McKale tomorrow. But after the fertile years you’ll be expected to work for them in other ways.”
“Like what?” My heart gave a bang. “Are you finally going to tell me what you do?”
He grinned at my unabashed tone. “That was the plan. It’s nothing so mysterious as you might think. I’m just a Tracker. Do you know what that is?”
“Ah.” I leaned back against the pole, staring at my father’s thick jawline and seeing him a little bit differently. I tried to remember everything Leilah had mentioned about Trackers.
“You can make people forget when they meet Faeries?”
He took a seat beside me, leaning against the next fencepost.
“When Fae enter into our realm, I follow their magic. They leave traces when they glamour or sift from one place to another. I can feel a path of burn in the air, and I follow it. They can never sift too far. I usually find them. I can’t stop them or approach them, but sometimes they address me and I’ll respond. Otherwise, I just visit the people they’ve come into contact with. And, yes, I make them forget.”
That gave me a chill. “What do you do? Like, get in their heads somehow?”
“No, I can’t invade anyone’s mind. I shroud them in magic and use the Gaelic phrase, Ar oscailt intinn, which roughly translates to open your mind. It’s more like hypnotism. And then I tell them precisely what I want them to forget. It’s important to be exact so you don’t take too much or leave anything behind. When I pull the magic away, the memory is gone. It’s painless.”
“Wow.” I didn’t know what else to say. How weird to think of my dad doing that. “You work in the U.S.?”
He’d always traveled a lot. Sometimes he was gone for months at a time. But it didn’t make much sense for him to live in the U.S. and work in Ireland.
“I work in the U.S., mostly. There’s a portal there.”
“Where? In D.C.?” The idea of it made me feel violated.
“No, no. It’s in Vermont on the border with Canada.”
“Oh. Well, at least it’s not too close. So, what does Mom do?”
“She’s an information gatherer. She informs us when strange reports are made. We check out anything that sounds like it could be Fae related. There are dozens of us in U.S. offices, including Mom and I.”
I twisted blades of grass between my fingers, trying to process it.
“Do you work for the CIA, then?”
“Nope. Army. It’s a paranormal division nobody’s ever heard of. Except, of course, those in the military elite. And us.” He grinned. “Scared yet?”
“A little,” I admitted. “Does your voodoo magic work on Fae? Can we make them forget?”
“No. Faerie magic only works against their kind at the hands of another Fae, not a human. It’s too weak.”
“Darn.” It would be nice to make the FFG forget she ever wanted McKale.