“Brendan? Can you hear me? Brendan?”
He couldn’t focus on her face. “Charlie?”
His vision cleared and he saw it wasn’t Charlie but Kim, her face full of concern and a little hurt.
“It’s only me,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” Brendan said, looking up into her brown eyes. “I’m glad it’s you.”
Kim smiled her crooked smile. A shadow fell across them. Brendan looked up and saw the wrinkled, kindly face of Merddyn. The old Faerie raised his bushy eyebrows and gave a nod. “I am satisfied.”
Brendan sat up as Ariel mounted the platform and cried, “It is Proven. Brendan is one of us! He must be assigned to a Clan.”
The crowd erupted into hoots and cheers.
Kim helped Brendan to his feet. He was still feeling a little woozy. Suddenly, Og was there, crushing him in a bear hug.
“Och, didn’t I just know ye’d do it? Didn’t I just?”
“Og, you big lummox. Let him breathe.” Deirdre smiled and kissed Brendan’s cheek. “Well done.”
Greenleaf was at her side, smiling placidly. “See? No need to worry at all. Very impressive! I see you managed to alter the stone. So many Talents.”
Brendan suddenly remembered the rock, the fear in its voice. He reached out and laid a hand on the cold, wet surface. Closing his eyes, he thought, Forgive me. I didn’t mean to scare you.
There was no answer. He only felt vague contentment from the stone and took that as acknowledgment of his apology.
“A drink! A drink is required!” Og shouted. “Follow me!”
Deirdre rolled her eyes. “What a surprise.”
Even in the midst of the festivities, Brendan was troubled. Where was Charlie? He scanned the crowd for her, searching for a swatch of black in the riot of colour. He’d given up finding her when he spotted Pukh standing in one of the alleyways between the tents at the far side of the Faerground. He was speaking with someone, his expression tense and a little angry. Brendan followed Pukh’s gaze and saw that he was speaking to Charlie. She had her hood pulled up, obscuring her face, but he was certain it was her.
What’s she doing talking to him?
As Brendan watched, Charlie shook her head vigorously at something Pukh said. Pukh’s face darkened. He grabbed Charlie’s arm roughly and pulled her into the alleyway out of sight.
Brendan wanted to investigate but the crowd swept him on into the open doors of the Swan. He wondered what Charlie was doing talking to the Lord of Tir na nOg and what she’d said that made him angry. He had to hope that she could take care of herself.
BLT flew in rapid spirals around Brendan’s head. “You did it! You did it! You did it!”
“Have you been eating sugar?”
“So suspicious! Can’t a person just be happy?” BLT cried. She beelined ahead and into the open door of the Swan. Brendan laughed.
The Swan of Liir was absolutely rammed. A DJ, accompanied by a clutch of more traditional musicians, had set up on the upper gallery. The centre of the room was a heavy mass of dancers gyrating to the music. Og forged a path through the patrons to a corner of the bar.
“Ye’ll have a drink, Brendan?” Og ventured.
“Diet cola,” Brendan laughed.
Og shook his head in disgust. “It’ll kill ya, that stuff.”
Saskia was a blur behind the bar, serving drinks at a breakneck pace. When she spied Brendan she stopped and smiled wolfishly. “I heard about the handstand. Well done!”
“He was magnificent, I tell you.” Leonard’s deep bass rolled over them. He was helping Saskia behind the bar, pulling pints of beer and grinning with his gold teeth all the while.
Kim was silent, standing with her back to the bar and her arms crossed. She sensed Brendan’s gaze and gave him a little half smile.
“You were amazing,” she said, barely audible over the din of the crowd. “Everybody’s talking about you.”
Brendan nodded. He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Thanks.”
“For what?” Kim asked.
“For the Dawn Flight. For showing me that there’s a good side to all this weird stuff. For being here.” He took her hand and squeezed it.
Kim blushed and shrugged, saying gruffly, “Yeah, well. That’s cool.”
Brendan looked into her brown eyes and smiled. Here in the middle of this hurricane of Faerie insanity, he was at peace.
Suddenly there was a cry from the doorway. The music staggered to a stop as Lugh pushed his way into the pub, scattering the dancers and opening a circle in their midst. He dragged two figures, one in each huge hand, and threw them to the ground. Close on his heels came little Maya, giggling like a demented child, pushing a boy in front of her.
“Look what we found,” she crowed.
“Interlopers,” Lugh growled. “They were trespassing on the Gathering.”
A fierce cry rose from the Faeries. Brendan was off his stool in a flash and pushing through the crowd, Kim hot on his heels.
Brendan’s stomach dropped away when he saw who knelt on the floor at Lugh’s feet. Harold, Dmitri, and Chester Dallaire blinked in terror at the sea of hostile faces. Their hands were tied behind their backs, but otherwise they seemed to be all right.
“What are you doing here?” Kim demanded before Brendan could find any words.
“We were worried about Brendan,” Dmitri answered.
“You are in mucho trouble, you idiots,” Kim groaned.
“We all know the penalty for trespassing on the Gathering.” Pukh’s clear voice brought a hushed silence to the room.
“Oh brother,” Kim moaned softly. “Here it comes.”
“People of the Moon!” Pukh cried theatrically. He stepped into the circle with his henchmen and addressed the crowd. “The Pact is clear. Our Gatherings are sacrosanct. Intruders are punished. Humans are not welcome here.”
“These three meant no harm.” Brendan stepped into the ring and faced Pukh.
“Three?” Pukh said with an ingenuous look of surprise. “You are mistaken. There are four prisoners.” This last he called over his shoulder.
Lugh pushed through the crowd and returned, dragging a reluctant Delia by the elbow. His sister had been bound and gagged. She struggled like a wildcat, but the tall Faerie’s grip was firm.
Brendan’s face was a picture of shock and dismay. Lugh pushed Delia to the ground and took a place beside Pukh, his cold eyes glittering in the firelight.
“We all know the penalty,” Pukh said with a savage smile. “They must die.”
RESPONSIBILITY
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Harold squeaked. “Let’s not jump right to ‘They must die!’ I mean, that’s a little over the top, isn’t it?”
Brendan couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you kidding me? Die? Isn’t that a bit extreme? And why are they bound? Untie them right now.”
“Our Laws are strict,” Ariel interjected. “The People of Metal are not permitted to attend our Gatherings.”
“Well, your little Gathering will end on a down note. Killing people’s a thing you just don’t do at parties.”
“This is not a joke, Brendan,” Pukh said. “These people must be dealt with according to our rules. They must be executed.”
“That’s barbaric! Can’t we just Compel them to forget?” Brendan suggested. “I did it before.”
“Is that what happened?” Harold demanded. “You made us forget that day? I knew it!”
Lugh lashed out with the toe of his boot, catching Harold in the ribs and knocking him to the floor. Brendan stepped between Lugh and the prisoners. He glared steadily into the pale, dead eyes of the tall Faerie and said with as much steadiness as he could muster, “You kick him again, I’ll snap your foot off and feed it to you, you creep.”
Lugh’s eyes widened slightly, then a slow smile spread across his pale, cadaverous face. “I await your pleasure, young Princeling.”
Kim stepped up, reaching for her stick. “We’ll give you a two-for-one deal.”
BLT fluttered down to Brendan’s shoulder, her fists cocked. “With a little extra.”