Hounded

may I first offer you anything else by way of refreshment? «
    » No, I am perfectly content with this, « she said, wiggling her glass.
    » Then perhaps we can retire to the front porch while we talk? «
    » That will serve nicely. « I led the way, and Oberon followed us out and sat between us on the porch. He was thinking about hunting in Papago Park and hoping we would take him there. My bicycle was still in the street, to my relief, and I relaxed a little bit, until it occurred to me that Flidais had probably not walked here.
    » Is your chariot safely stowed? « I asked her.
    » Aye, there is a park hard by here, and I have bound the stags there until my return. Do not worry, « she added when she saw my eyebrows rise, » they are invisible. «
    » Of course. « I smiled. » So tell me, what brings you out to visit an old Druid long gone from the world? «
    » Aenghus Óg knows you are here. «
    » So the Morrigan tells me, « I replied equably.
    » Ah, she’s paid you a visit? Fir Bolgs are on their way too. «
    » I am well aware. «
    Flidais cocked her head and considered my air of unconcern. » And are you also aware that Bres follows them? «
    I spewed strawberry smoothie into my flower bed at that, and Oberon looked at me in alarm.
    » No, I suppose you had not heard that yet, « Flidais said with a faint smile, and then she chuckled, pleased to have elicited such a reaction from me.
    » Why is he coming? « I asked as I wiped my mouth. Bres was one of the meanest of the Tuatha Dé Danann alive, though he was not particularly bright. He had been their leader for a few decades, but eventually he was replaced for being more sympathetic to the monstrous race of the Fomorians than to his own people. He was a god of agriculture and had escaped death at Lugh’s hands long ago by promising to share all he knew. The only reason he had not been killed since then was because he was husband to Brighid, and no one wished to risk her wrath. Her magical powers were unmatched, save perhaps by the Morrigan.
    » Aenghus Óg has tempted him with something or other, « Flidais said with a dismissive gesture. » Bres acts only when it is in his interest to do so. «
    » I understand that. But why send Bres? Is he to kill me? «
    » I do not know. He certainly cannot be coming to outwit you. Truthfully, Druid, I hope the two of you do come to blows and you defeat him. He does not respect the forest as he should. «
    I offered no response, and Flidais seemed content to let me consider what she had said. She sipped her smoothie and reached down to give Oberon a friendly scratch behind the ears. His tail sprang to life and quickly thumped against the legs of our chairs. I could hear him begin to tell her of the sport to be had at Papago Park, and I smiled at the way he always kept his goals firmly in mind—the mark of a true hunter.
    › There are desert bighorn sheep in the hills there. Have you ever hunted them? ‹
    Flidais told him no, she had never hunted sheep at all. They were herd animals that offered no sport.
    › These are not regular sheep. They are larger, they are brown, and they move very fast among the rocks. We have yet to corner one, though we have tried only a few times. I always enjoy the hunt anyway. ‹
    » Does your hound jest with me, Atticus? « Flidais raised her eyes to mine, and a note of contempt crept into her voice. » You were unable to bring down a sheep? «
    » Oberon never jests about hunting, « I said. » Desert bighorns are nothing like the sheep you are used to. They are significant game, especially in the Papago Hills. Treacherous rocks there. «
    » Why have I never heard of these creatures? «
    I shrugged. » They are native to this area. There are several desert creatures you would probably enjoy hunting here. «
    Flidais sat back in her chair, frowning, and took another sip of her smoothie as if it were an elixir to cure cognitive dissonance. She stared for a few moments at the low-hanging branches of my mesquite tree, which were swaying gently in a whisper of desert wind. Then, without warning, her face exploded in a smile and she laughed in delight—I would almost call it a giggle, but that would be beneath the dignity of a goddess.
    » Something new! « she gushed. » Do you know how long it has been since I have hunted anything new? Why, it has been centuries, Druid, millennia even! «
    I raised my glass. » To novelty, « I said. It was a highly prized commodity amongst the