plane shift. When I’d kicked Bacchus into the portal that sent him to the Time Islands, all of his Bacchants came back to themselves after I closed it.
Oberon, stop! It’s Atticus! Oberon, no!
His eyes cleared and he went still.
I smiled in relief.
Yeah, it’s me. You can let go now
.
He unlocked his jaws and my bloody arm flopped down.
Yes, but it’s okay, it’s not your fault. Bacchus drove you mad
.
Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll be fine. I’m already healing
.
Oberon began to hack and spit as best as he could.
We can shift there
. I took him to the river of Time Islands first so that he could rinse out. He kept apologizing to me the whole time, and I did my best to soothe and reassure him. I closed up the skin on my arm quickly and showed him it was all fine, even though it would take longer to rebuild the muscle underneath.
I hoped Flidais and Perun wouldn’t be killed by the Olympians in their fit of madness—and I hoped they wouldn’t kill each other. As long as they survived, however, I would think that had gone very well. Both Zeus and Jupiter now had reason to believe me, Jupiter owed me one, because he’d said he could control Bacchus and then couldn’t, and I could now shift anywhere I wished. It didn’t really matter if Bacchus never swore to leave mealone; without the help of the other Olympians, he’d never catch me.
Of course, I was rather saddened that Herne had to pay such a steep price in all of this. I wondered if there was any way I could possibly make it up to him. Perhaps Manannan Mac Lir could do something for him.
Shifting closer to the center of Tír na nÓg, we found Granuaile in Goibhniu’s shop, resting on a cot. The arrow had been removed, the wound bandaged, and she was staring at the ceiling, concentrating on her healing process.
Without saying hello, I affected a casual manner, as if I’d done nothing more than wait in line at the bank, and said, “Well, I made it out of there.”
Her face lit up when she saw me, which served as a reminder of how very lucky I was.
“Atticus! Good. Now I can stop worrying.”
“Not quite yet. Thanks to Bacchus, Flidais and Perun have gone a bit crazy, and we should probably lie low for a while. We need to go somewhere far away where you can heal properly. Preferably a Pacific island or somewhere in the New World. Someplace without an Old Way to get there. Any suggestions?”
Her eyes rolled back up to the ceiling as she considered, then fixed back on me. “How about Japan?” she said. “I’ve never been there but I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Done.”
We might. You never know
.
“Where’s Goibhniu?” I asked, looking around the shop.
“He ducked out shortly after removing the arrow. He hadn’t heard yet about the Morrigan dying and seemed pretty upset when I told him.”
“Oh. That’s understandable.”
Something in my tone caused Granuaile to examine my face with concern. “You need to talk about it, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said solemnly. “I do. We will once we get ourselves settled in Japan.” The practicalities of making that happen suddenly made me laugh. “Hal is going to shit an ostrich when I call him from Tokyo. But first I’m going to dash back to the cabin and get some clothes and things for us, all right? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I planted a kiss on her forehead and another on the top of Oberon’s, then left Goibhniu’s taproom to shift somewhere else entirely. I intended to go to the cabin as I’d said, but I needed to make a detour first.
Chapter 29
Lord Grundlebeard was overdue for a visit. He was my best lead on finding out who had orchestrated my hunting and attempted assassination. But I didn’t know his real name, and if I asked about him in Tír na nÓg he might hear of it before I could get to him. A better gamble, I decided, would be to seek out Midhir. Either he was the man behind it all anyway or he could tell me where to find Grundlebeard.
If Midhir truly was the mastermind, then I didn’t want Oberon and Granuaile along; neither of them had the magical defenses I had, and Midhir truly was the sort of magician who could turn someone into a
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