Perhaps Fand’s escape and Manannan’s disappearance would wind up becoming a priority of mine soon enough, but for the moment I needed to end the vampire threat. Three Druids against tens of thousands of vampires was terrible odds, no matter our advantages. I was on my own again and out of options—except for a more personal one. Leif Helgarson had sent me into a death trap in Prague. It wasn’t the first time he’d played me and I doubted it would be the last, because I had a blind spot where he was concerned—or maybe a stubborn resistance to thinking he really cared nothing for me during all those years he was my attorney and friend. The cold, rational thing to do would be to track him down and unbind him, to eliminate his ability to mess up my life anymore, but instead I wanted to track him down and just beat the hell out of him. If there was, in fact, any hell at all to be beaten out.
I was still not clear on the true nature of vampires but had serious doubts that they were the creatures of hell that the Hammers of God and popular culture thought they were. To my knowledge, they were not truly repelled by crosses or holy water. To inflict real damage you had to assault their centers of power, around the heart or head, or else burn them. Actual fire was best, but the sun would do. A nice, old-fashioned smackdown, though? Leif would shrug that off in a day and I’d feel a whole lot better.
But how to find him? He claimed to be in Normandy, which might or might not be true, but even if it was true, that didn’t exactly give me his address. I couldn’t find him via divination, but if he was in Normandy, perhaps I could find who would be his next meal: someone staggering alone at night, drunk on pinot noir. And maybe if I asked Mekera to help—she was far better at divination than I—she could track down Manannan and Fand in the bargain.
I’d left Mekera, the world’s greatest tyromancer and infamous hermit, on Emhain Ablach, the Isle of Apples, just before shifting to Toronto. She’d been the one to help me find that vampire directory, in return for removing her to a safe place where she wouldn’t be bothered. I’d promised to tell Manannan she was there and ask him to take care of her, but I realized that I hadn’t ever gotten around to that and now he was missing. That gave me excuse enough to interrupt her solitude. She might actually need something. Or Manannan might be there.
Shifting to Emhain Ablach meant that Oberon was reminded of his determination to make chicken apple sausage out of the rare apple varieties there and the legendary Vicious Chicken of Bristol. He was trying to pin me down on where to find the best fennel and other spices for The Book of Five Meats as I called out for Mekera. We had to circle halfway around the island before we got a response.
“Hello, Siodhachan,” she said, coming out of the trees. “Back for another cheese?”
“Yep. Did you see me coming in advance?”
“No. Haven’t been able to make a cheese since I got here, so no divination. Haven’t seen this god you told me would be dropping by either.”
“Oh. I was going to ask.”
“What is it you want?”
“I’d like to know where that god is, where a vampire will dine in Normandy tonight, and where to find an escaped goddess.”
“Location, location, location. Three questions, three cheeses. All right. Go shopping for me, and that’ll be payment enough.”
“What do you need?”
“Only everything. I got out of Ethiopia with some vegetable rennet, but I lack dairy here and all my other supplies. I’ll make you a list.”
“All right.”
“I mean as soon as you bring me paper and pen. I’m really starved for resources here, except apples. Unless it’s safe for me to return to my home?”
“Not yet. Just tell me what you need and I’ll remember.”
It was a very long list. “That’s going to be a lot of shoplifting,” I muttered, but she heard me.
“You don’t have any money?” Mekera said. “I find that hard to believe.”
“If you go with me, I’ll pay you back.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re determined to get me back into the world.”
“No, it’s not that. I want to help, but I don’t want to steal if I don’t have to.”
“Let’s go, then. I’ll reintroduce myself to my bank.”
It was hours of errands after that, but Mekera was efficient and knew what she wanted and where to get it. In addition to cheese-making paraphernalia, she picked up a few more outfits and plenty of food that wasn’t apples. When she finally got started on her tyromancy, most of the day had burned away.
In the pattern of the curdling cheese she divined the future, the complex patterns revealing truth to her far more clearly than my wands ever could.
She began with Fand: “She’s not on earth. A different plane. A castle surrounded by a fen. Lots of yew trees. Creepy.”
She’d taken up residence in the Morrigan’s Fen? At first I was surprised that the Fae living there would permit it. Those loyal to the Morrigan tended to attack first and never question it later. Then I thought of a reason why they might and privately bet that Manannan was there with her. Mekera confirmed it with the next cheese.