Hounded

Really? How about Sasquatch? «
    » She doesn’t know about that one; it’s too modern. But all the gods are real, and for some reason almost everyone who knows him thinks that Thor is a giant dick. But the most interesting thing she’s told me so far is that there’s still one honest-to-goodness Druid walking around after all the rest have died, and I’ve served him a whole lot of dark beer, bottles and bottles of whiskey, and occasionally flirted with him shamelessly. «
    » Well, if you’re going to flirt, that’s the only way to do it. «
    » Are you really older than Christianity? «
    There was no use lying. The voice in her head had already told her everything. Besides, the whiskey was good, and I could blame everything I said on it if I had to. » Yep, « I admitted.
    » And how did you manage that? You aren’t a god. «
    » Airmid, « I said simply, thinking Granuaile would have no idea what I was talking about.
    She narrowed her eyes. » Are you talking about Airmid, daughter of Dian Cecht, sister of Miach who was slain? « she asked.
    That sobered me up some. » Wow. You’d win a shit-load of money on Jeopardy! with a brain like that. They teach Celtic mythology at the university here? «
    Refusing to be distracted, Granuaile pressed, » You’re telling me you know the herblore of Airmid? The three hundred sixty-five herbs grown from the grave of Miach? «
    » Aye. All of it. «
    » And why would she have shared such priceless knowledge with you? «
    That was a story for another day. » Can’t tell you. « I shook my head with seeming regret. » You’re too young. «
    Granuaile snorted. » Whatever. So is this lore of Airmid’s the secret to your eternal youth? «
    I nodded. » I call it Immortali-Tea because I’m fond of puns. I drink it every week or so and I stay fresh and unspoiled. «
    » So this handsome face of yours isn’t an illusion? It’s really you? «
    » Yes. Biologically, I’m still twenty-one. «
    » Out. Fucking. Standing. Wow. « She leaned forward over the bar again, even closer than she had before. » So here is what I want, Atticus. « I could smell her strawberry lip gloss, the peppermint of her breath, and that peculiar scent that I now knew was only half hers: red-wine bouquet mixed with saffron and poppies. » I want to be your apprentice. Teach me. «
    » Truly? That is what you want? « I raised my eyebrows.
    » Yes. I want to be a Druid. «
    I hadn’t heard that one in more than a century; the last person to ask me to teach them was one of those silly Victorians who thought Druids wore white robes and grew beards like cumulonimbus clouds. » I see. And what do I get in return? «
    » Laksha’s help. Her gratitude. And mine. «
    » Hmm. Let’s put some details with each of those, if we’re bargaining. «
    » Laksha knows you have a problem with Radomila. «
    » Wait, « I said, putting up a hand to forestall her speech. » How does she know that? «
    » Two of the coven came in here yesterday while I was working, and she—or rather, I—overheard snatches of their conversation. When I heard your name I started paying attention. They were talking about taking something away from you, but I don’t know what because they never called it by name. «
    I grimaced. » I know what they want. Did they say how they were going to manage it? «
    » No, they were talking about how they’d be rewarded once they got it. «
    » Interesting. What did they say? «
    » They mentioned Mag Mell. «
    » You’re kidding. Mag Mell? He was going to give them passage through there? «
    » That and a permanent estate. «
    » Unbelievable. « My nostrils flared and my fingers tightened around my glass. » Do you know what Mag Mell is? «
    » I had to look it up, but yes. It’s one of the Fae planes. The really posh one. «
    » Aye, the really beautiful one. And it’s being sold off to Polish witches. I wonder if Manannan Mac Lir knows anything about it. « Manannan was supposed to be the ruler of Mag Mell. If he knew about Aenghus Óg’s promise and had done nothing, then he was part of the collusion against Brighid; the more likely scenario was that Aenghus Óg was plotting against Manannan as well.
    » I don’t have an answer for that, « Granuaile replied, » but I heard one say to the other that they had to leave because Radomila would be waiting for them. Obviously that piqued Laksha’s interest, and that’s how she knows your interests and hers coincide. She wants you to