The sun has almost set when we reach the mainland and a figure separates from the shadows. Despite the chill he’s bare-chested, which draws plenty of stares. The fact that he’s in phenomenal shape and has a wide golden belt supporting bright red pants of a flowing material probably has something to do with it too. Or maybe it’s the huge, club-like weapon he has slung over his shoulder. His skin is a dark, rich brown and his hair is cut close against his skull, as if perhaps he had shaved it a couple of weeks ago and hadn’t kept up with it. Everyone’s looking at him, but he’s looking right back at us as we disembark.
“Perun,” he says, nodding once to him. “And you must be Granuaile.” His voice is a thrumming bass, and I can’t place his accent but I love it.
“I’m sorry, have we met before? I think I would remember.”
Brilliant teeth flash at me. “We have not met. If you were to ask Odin, he would say I am here at his request. But in truth I do not care what Odin wants. I am here because I wished to meet you. I am Shango.”
“Shango? The Orisha? God of thunder?”
Lightning dances in his eyes, just as it does in Perun’s every so often, and he nods at me with a tight grin. “The very same.”
“Why did you want to meet me?”
“I have heard you delivered a long-overdue beating to Loki. I would like to hear the story from your own lips. And Odin tells me that this horse is rather important to Loki. You have some distance to travel to his new home, and there’s a chance that Loki might show up along the way. I hope you will allow me to accompany you. If Perun and I are both with you, it may serve as a deterrent, and, failing that, I would be honored to fight him by your side.”
Oh, damn. I really like to listen to him talk. I want to take him to dinner and just have him read the menu to me. And he’s so polite.
“I see. And why did Odin ask you to meet me?”
“He does not want Loki to have this horse any more than you do.”
“His name is Mi?osz. And this is my hound, Orlaith.”
He makes eye contact with both and greets them properly, calling them by name. Lots of people would not pay them that respect, and he rises another couple of notches in my regard.
“I’d be delighted for you to join us,” I tell him. “Though I hope to hear more about you as well.”
“We will be running all through the night, yes? Plenty of time.”
It will be my second run across Poland, although we’ll be crossing the northern half and from west to east rather than east to west, but at least it won’t lack for sterling conversation. And every step will get me closer to the time when I can address the real reason I became a Druid. My stepfather has lurked in my mind like dishes left over from a dinner no one enjoyed and no one wants to clear away. A divination cloak will finally allow me to attend to that chore in privacy. I think it’s long past time I cleaned house.
CHAPTER 14
When Brighid and I returned to the Fae Court in Tír na nóg—she looking regal and I looking every bit as injured as I was—we had a surprise delegation of yewmen waiting for us. It was a large one: a hundred or more. They’re creepy things, as one might expect from creatures spawned by the Morrigan, and devoid of any sense of humor or indeed most human emotions except for greed and bloodlust. They were highly effective mercenaries against the vampires—they had no blood to suck and could not be charmed, and bullets that might be fired at them by thralls were mere annoyances. They were perfect vampire hunters, actually, except for the high price tag on their services.
They had come to inform me that I had overdue bills to pay. The yewmen didn’t have any vocal cords, however, so they had to communicate via a spokesfaery. They must have written down in advance what they wished to say. Or used sign language or played charades. I really didn’t know.
“We have staked and beheaded many vampires for you, Druid,” their spokesfaery said in answer to my greeting. Her high, reedy voice, similar to a hamster on helium, didn’t match the grim visages of the yewmen. “And at first you paid through Goibhniu. But now Goibhniu is dead. We have not been paid the bounty on six hundred and eighty-three vampires. We will not kill any more until you pay in full.”
“I, uh, yyyyyeah. About that. The vampires have managed to degrade my ability to pay.”
The faery repeated, “We will not kill any more until you pay in full.” She must have exhausted her scripted speeches.
“Got it.” I gave them a thumbs-up. “I’ll work on that. When I have the money, who should I contact?”
“Me,” Brighid said, injecting herself into the conversation. “You will pay me.” She looked at the yewmen. “I will be his guarantor. I expect that will be acceptable.”
“Brighid, you don’t need to do that, I haven’t asked—”
“I am volunteering freely and expecting no favors in return, Siodhachan. It’s done.”