Awakenings

            I watched the sun slip slowly toward the horizon, arms crossed and holding my jacket tight across my shoulders.  It was a chilly evening, as Michigan evenings can be as September gives way to October, slowly but surely.
            Tonight was the night.  We’d have to leave soon for the burial, to make sure we could make ready before we lost the light completely.  Phelan still wasn’t happy about the prospect of doing this at twilight, but the combined might of me, J.T., and Carolyn wasn’t giving him much choice in the matter.  Rory, I think, would have been just as happy doing it in the dead of night, and Kellin had been damnably ambivalent the past few days when it came to arguing a case for or against anything.  Regardless of what Phelan said about edges and crossings, I was starting to get more than a little concerned—and annoyed.
            At least we hadn’t felt the eyes on us again since that day by the fire.  Whatever Greg had managed to do apparently had warded them off, at least for now.
            “I’m coming with you.”
            I startled and turned, blinking at Thom.  He was leaning on one crutch instead of two, which would have J.T., Jacqueline, and Leah all up in arms, but they were probably busy doing something else at this time of the evening.  He took a few limping steps toward me and gingerly slid his free arm around my waist.
            I looked up at him as he leaned into me, hip to hip.  “I didn’t think you’d want to.”
            He smiled briefly.  “Not sure why.  It’s paying respects and making the ground safe for our dead.  Considering I was almost among them, only seems right I should be there.”
            I winced and he squeezed me gently.
            “Of course, if you don’t want me to tag along, I guess I could stay here.”
            “It’s a long walk, Thom.”  Nervous flutters filled my belly, like a dozen butterflies trying to win free.  Stubborn though he was, sometimes logic won out over his stubbornness.  It was a long walk, and it’d be hard on his battered body.  Not to mention what we were going out there to do might be hard on his battered spirit.
            He sighed quietly and shook his head.  “I haven’t been anywhere but here in camp for almost five weeks, Mar.  I think I’m starting to go crazy.”
            “Starting?”  I teased gently, smiling at him.  He cracked a grin and shook his head again.
            “Yeah.  Starting.”
            I put my arms around his waist for a moment and squeezed.  He winced slightly, then sighed.  I just looked at him.  “Are you sure?”
            “About coming with you guys?”  He nodded.  “I’m sure.  I want—I need—to see what the rest looks like, Mar.  I need to know what…”  His voice trailed away, broke a little in the middle.  “…what’s happened to this place.  It was our world.  Sitting here, I’m not going to figure that out, you know?”
            I nodded.  “I know,” I said softly.  I squeezed him again, kissed his jaw and just held on.
            “So you’re not going to argue with me about this?”  He whispered into my hair after a few moments of silence.
            “No,” I said.  “But the others might, and that’s a battle you have to win yourself.”
            “Mm.”  His gaze drifted toward the sky, painted in vivid reds and oranges, pinks giving way to deepening blue somewhere above us.  We were silent for a long time, just standing there together, listening to the activities of camp in the evening behind us.
            “I dreamed of Kira last night,” he said after a long time, so softly I almost didn’t hear him.
            So that’s why he was murmuring her name in his sleep.  I knew he was worried about her, despite Phelan’s assurances that she was fine.  Thom would never really be sure his cousin was fine until he saw it for himself, and that was an impossibility at this point.  I rubbed his back gently.  “Did you?”
            He nodded slightly.  “Saw her by a fire, talking with a woman I don’t think I’ve ever seen.  Teague was there, and another man I’ve never seen.  She seemed…fine, I guess.  If it was more than just a dream.”  He buried his nose in my hair.
            I smiled weakly up at him.  “Thom, if you saw more than just her and Teague, do you really think it’s only a dream?”
            “No,” he said softly, the word muffled by my hair.  “But I can’t be sure.”
            “We’re never sure,” I said quietly.  “There’s no way to ever be sure when it comes to all of this.  Educated guesses, instincts, and hope.  What does that tell you?”
            He laughed.  “That my unconscious is focused on things I’ve got no control over.  Probably something I should fix.”
            Maybe, maybe not.  I tilted my face toward his to kiss him lightly before I slowly let go of him.  “Can I help with that?”
            After a moment’s consideration, he shook his head.  “No.  Probably not.  Where are you going?”
            “I have a few things I have to pull together for tonight.  If you stay here, I’ll bring you your other crutch before J.T. or the girls catch you wandering around with one.”
            “Too late for that,” J.T. rumbled from behind us.  “Carolyn’s looking for you, Marin.”
            Thom mimed looking stricken and I laughed, shaking my head.
            “Take your lumps like a man,” I called over my shoulder to him as I headed back toward the tents, where Carolyn probably was.
            “I’ve got too many of those already.  Another lump and I’ll break!”  Thom called back, but he was grinning.
            J.T. just shook his head, smiling wryly.  I could hear him starting in on Thom as I walked away, though his tone was more good-naturedly stern than angry.  I shook my own head and shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat, only feeling mildly guilty for abandoning Thom to explain not only why he was limping around with only one crutch, but also to tell his best friend that he’d be accompanying us on the long walk out to the burial mounds that needed blessings this evening.
            That was probably going to be a fairly interesting conversation, to say the least.

            The tiny cottage was only a few miles up the road, and once she’d rounded up Cameron’s horse and her own, getting him there wasn’t all that hard.  She’d had to burn the bodies first, though, not wanting to leave any trace of their presence, mostly to protect the sanctuary a little way away.
            She stopped by the pump outside the cottage to tether the horses and scrub blood and ichor from her hands before daring to knock on the door.  In the end, Neve Vaughan didn’t have to bother, because the cottage door sprang open almost as soon as she’d finished tethering the mounts.
            “What the hell’s going on?  Neve?  What are you doing here?”
            “Don’t sound so pleased to see me, Kira,” Neve muttered, then turned to start pulling Cameron’s unconscious body from across his saddle as if he were an oversized sack of wheat.  “Help me, will you?  Mind the black stuff.”
            “What happened?”  Kira asked as she rushed to help, surveyed the damage.  “What did you two tangle with?”
            Neve shook her head.  “I’ll tell you both at once.  My brother’s inside, right?”
            Kira nodded quickly.  “But he’s asleep, I think.  He’s still regaining his strength.”
            “Still?  It’s been weeks.”  Neve’s nose wrinkled as they started to carry Cameron toward the house.  He must have been more worn out before everything started to come to head than I thought, then.  “Oh well.  I suppose that explains the wardings.”
            Kira stopped dead in her tracks for a moment.  “What’s wrong with the wardings?”
            “Nothing,” Neve said quickly.  “They just feel more like a stiletto than a bludgeon.  Not his style.”  She grinned, though bleakly.  “They’re yours, aren’t they?  Phelan taught you.”
            “Well, someone had to,” Kira said.  “We hadn’t gotten to that when the attacks started.”  She shouldered open the door.  “Come on, we’ll lay him out on the floor in front of the fireplace.”
            Neve grunted and nodded, and together the two women maneuvered Cameron’s inert form over to the smooth-sanded floor in front of the hearth.
            Kira crouched to add another log to the fire before she cleaned her hands on her jeans.  “There’re bandages and a bottle of vodka in the wicker over there.  Just bring the whole thing.”  She started to peel Cameron’s bloody uniform off of him so she could get to the gashes, which still oozed blood sullenly, silently.  She made a soft retching sound.  “Ungh, these smell ghastly.  How old are they?”
            “Half an hour,” Neve said as she hauled the basket over, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she hadn’t gotten to clean up outside and was still covered in filth from the fight.  “I’ll get some water and then kick Teague out of bed.  We may need his help.”
            “No need for any kicking,” her brother’s sleep-thickened voice said quietly from behind her.  “I’m up.  What are you doing here, Neve?”
            Neve spun toward him.  He was scrubbing at one eye blearily, looking as if he really had just rolled out of a deep sleep.
            Still, she marched over to him and planted a finger against his breastbone, poking hard.  “There was a pack of six Dirae on the road three miles from here.  They’re still hunting you, Teague.  What the hell did you do to piss someone off that badly?”
            He stared at her for a long moment, tilting his head to one side to look past her, toward Cameron.  “Did it ever occur to you that they might have been after him?”
            “Why the hell would they be after Cameron?”  Neve demanded as Teague deftly slipped past her and shuffled toward Kira, Cameron, and the fire.
            “Any number of reasons,” Teague said evenly as he flipped the basket open and pulled out the bottle of vodka and a wad of white fabric.  “Go clean up and bring a bucket of water in here.  These are putrefying almost as fast as if he had Áes Dána blood in him.”
            Tamping down temper, Neve glared at him for a moment, then spun on her heel and marched outside to the horses and the pump.  She washed quickly, thoughts storming as she scrubbed the blood as best she could from her hands.
            Why would the Dirae be interested in Cameron?  He’s nothing special, just a sweet guy that happens to be sensitive to danger.
            But if he’s nothing special, why the hell did you turn around and follow him?  And why the sword?  Why did you throw him that sword?  She glanced toward the blade in question, dangling silently in its scabbard from where she’d slung it across her horse’s saddle.
            As she started to draw the water to bring back inside, another thought struck her.  If he’s nothing special, then why was he on his way here?
            She swallowed bile.  Oh hell.  I’ll disembowel him myself.  Damn you, big brother.  You have to stop playing so much so damn close to the vest!  Neve gave a little snarl and hauled the water back to the house, cursing under her breath as it sloshed out of the bucket and soaked her thighs and shins.
            Kira was near the door to relieve her of the bucket.  “Are you all right?” she asked in a low voice.
            Neve nodded with a soft grunt.  “Angry as hell, but otherwise sound.  They never touched me.  Cameron took the worst of it.”  Her lips thinned.  “His name’s Cameron MacKenzie, by the way.  He…”  Her voice trailed away as she looked past Kira toward where Teague was on his knees next to the other man with a bowl of steaming water, already trying to draw the Dirae’s poison out of Cameron’s wounds, out of his blood.  Neve sighed softly and shook her head.
            “Never mind,” she whispered.  “I’m going to go take care of the horses before I change my clothes.”
            She stopped when Kira touched her arm.
            “I don’t know why you’re both here, either, Neve,” Kira said softly.  “But I can’t say I’m not glad you are.  He’s almost impossible, you know.”
            Neve barked a weak laugh.  “What, no one warned you about that?”  She squeezed Kira’s hand briefly.  “We’ll figure out what’s going on here together.  Let me take care of those horses.  It’s been a long road and they deserve a rest.”
            Kira nodded and released her.  Neve stepped back outside, into the clean, cool air of a Canadian autumn.  It reminded her vaguely of home, of things lost and forgotten.
            The horses, as predicted, were more than grateful to be stabled with the pair Kira and Teague already had in the barn beyond the cabin, and Neve took her time rubbing them down, trying to avoid the worst of what Kira and Teague would need to do in tending Cameron’s wounds.
            Guilty tears began to sting in her eyes.  I should have moved faster.  Now he’ll be scarred for life, at the very least.  At worst, he would die from the poisons burning through his blood right now.  She swallowed again and leaned against her mount’s flank, listening to the horse breathe, to the pounding of its heart.
            He’s not one of us, though.  He’s like Kira.  He’ll survive.  It’ll be okay.  One bitter tear trickled down her cheek.  If it wasn’t, it would be her fault for not acting sooner, for not riding harder.
            For all she’d railed at her brother, she knew the truth.  The pack of Dirae had been following Cameron all right, though she couldn’t begin to imagine why.  He was just another survivor, like dozens—hundreds—of others left in the shattered wreck of a world.
            Right?

            There were six of the things in the little pack, and they’d gotten him surrounded.  The claws of one ripped a gaping rent in his sleeve before he jerked his sidearm free of its holster and shot it in the face.
            The thing reeled backward, howling and shrieking in pain, but it didn’t go down.
            Damn.  His eyes widened.  I don’t have enough bullets for this.
            Another came at him and he dove sideways, rolling again into a crouch, heart already beginning to hammer like a drummer on a timpani.  What are they?
            It didn’t matter.  They’d attacked him, and they didn’t seem very inclined toward reasonability.
            Every roll brought him closer to the edge of the road, toward the trees through which he could see a lake beyond.  Maybe he could lose them in the woods…
            One shrieked and jumped at him.  He tried to sidearm it off of him, only to topple backward under its not inconsiderable weight.  He mentally cursed and tucked his weapon against the thing’s chest and pulled the trigger.
            It jerked and tumbled off of him.  Another came at him, but this time he had enough time to bring up a booted foot and kick it back, turning its own momentum against it.
            The force of its impact against his foot shivered through his bones and he grit his teeth against sudden pain.
            Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, he thought as he scrambled to his feet.  The fact that it hadn’t been a good idea slammed home as his leg folded beneath him and he stumbled to regain his balance, favoring his injured leg.
            Shit.
            That was when the sword skittered into his sight, into reach of his hand.
            “Use it, damn you!  That gun isn’t going to do the trick!”
            He went momentarily rigid, recognizing the voice.  Then one of the things was on his back, claws digging into the flesh of his shoulders.  He let out a rather unmanly yelp, dipped to grasp the sword, then whirled, hoping to shake the creature off.  The slash in his arm already burned like he’d been raked with hot irons.
            The thing’s claws just dug in deeper as he spun.  Apparently, it wasn’t keen on giving up its prey.
            “Hold still!”  Her voice barked.  He saw her then, out of the corner of his eye, an arrow notched and bowstring drawn back to her ear.  She was aiming—at him?
            No, at the thing that’s—
            The arrow whistled past his ear and suddenly the thing on his back was screaming, howling, then simply gurgling as it dropped like so much dead meat from his back.  He didn’t even have time to thank her before she yelled again.
            “Eyes front, lieutenant!”
            Another of the ugly hags loomed before him and he took a swing at it with the sword that filled his hands and yet felt oddly right in his grasp.  The first hack glanced off the thing’s arm, but it hissed and backpedaled all the same, as if the blade’s substance burned it.  Cameron’s breath caught in his throat.
            Hell’s belles.  What are these things?
            “Stop thinking and just fight, damn you!”  She shouted from behind him.  Her bowstring sang again and something else died, he could hear the death-scream, thump, and rattle.
            You’re about to be saved by a girl you left a hundred miles behind you, MacKenzie.  How the mighty dragon will hath fallen.  He could hear his late wingmen jeering him all the way from here.
            He set his jaw and tried for a second swing. This one fell more true, catching the hag across the shoulder and scything downward, slipping through jointures like a hot knife through butter.  The pilot felt a little thrill of excitement, relief and elation mixing as the thing sluiced off his blade and he realized it wasn’t going to get up again.  It was like the first time flying, but much more immediately dangerous than maneuvering a several-ton hunk of alloys and plastics through the air.
            Instinct began to take over.  He shifted his weight to his good leg, pivoting toward the remaining three hags, arrayed between him and the girl, who calmly notched another arrow, took aim, and let it fly.
            Another of the creatures screamed in pain and he limped forward, broadsword flashing in the dying light.  He was almost captivated by the look of silvered steel, razored edges catching the light, but then remembered himself and began to hack away at the nearest hag.  Dark tinged in red nibbled at the edges of his vision as sweat set his wounds on fire.
            That hag got one more solid hit on him, adding a rent to his shoulder to match his arm and his back before he ran it through on the second try.
            And then all was quiet except for his blood pounding in his ears and the ragged rasp of his breath.  He leaned against the blade she’d thrown at him, staring at her across the slain.
            She shook her head slowly, dark blue eyes narrowing as her dark brows hooded them.  She was the epitome of Black Irish to his eye, though seeing her with that bow in hand and how easily she’d taken down four monsters to his two had him quickly revising his earlier estimation of her as part tough girl exterior, part damsel in distress.
            “You could have easily gotten yourself killed, Cameron,” she said sternly as she picked her way through the bodies, yanking arrows free from corpses and inspecting the tips for damage.  “Why didn’t you run?”
            He didn’t answer her, just watched her move.  What’s she doing here?  I thought she was going east.  Did she follow me?  Am I hallucinating this?
            She tossed three of the arrows away, disgusted.  “Still, you were pretty handy with that sword.  Have you ever used one before?  No, of course not.  No one today plays with swords.”  She reached out a hand to steady him, eyes suddenly drawn to the bloody rents in his uniform.  “Cameron?  Can you even hear me?”
            “It’s good to see you, too, Neve,” he managed to say before he collapsed.

            They all stared at Gray, whose jaw was firm, set.  His hands were curled over his kneecaps as he watched Eva’s eyes, which grew sad as she looked back at him and nodded slightly.
            “Then you understand,” she said softly.
            “That this world is far more dangerous than anyone suspects?  Of course I understand,” he said, his voice turning into almost a growl at the end.  “I’ve spent half my life since I realized what was out there protecting other people from everything and themselves.”  He shot a pointed look at Terézia before turning his attention back to Eva.  “It’s hard work.”
            Terézia opened her mouth to either apologize or demand more answers, but closed it again as Eva spoke.
            “I know it is.  Believe me, I know it is.  I never appreciated what those boys did for me when I was growing up until I had to start doing it for other people.  It has to be just about the most thankless task anyone’s ever taken on.”  She smiled weakly at Gray.  “Remind them later that they should thank you.  Have you seen many of those things in the last four weeks?”
            He shook his head slightly.  “No, none.  It’s got me a little concerned.  I’m overdue.”  He looked sidelong at his friends.
            Terézia’s heart had begun to beat again, painfully hard, thumping against her breastbone.  She wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about, but it was more than enough to leave her terrified and shaken.
            Eva simply made an interested sound and shrugged slightly.  “Maybe you’ve found a sheltered zone, then.  I can’t imagine that they’d miss you up here for another reason.  I found you easily enough, after all.”  She scrubbed her hand across her eyes and reached for her mug of tea.
            Her hand never made it.  She started to slump sideways.
            Gray was there to catch her, muttering a curse.  Terézia caught a glimmer of shiny, wet red beneath the vest Eva wore, the other woman’s T-shirt sticking damp with blood to her flesh on one side.
            “What the hell?”  Terézia blurted.  “Why didn’t you tell us you were hurt?”
            “Too much else to talk about,” Eva said, almost distantly, still reaching for her cup.  “I’m all right,” she said to Gray.  “Really, I promise, I’m all right.”
            “I’ve believed everything you’ve said up until that,” he said flatly.  “Wat, come give me a hand, we’ll get her to a cot.  Teca, find Elton and tell him we need his expertise up here, quick.”
            Terézia nodded slightly, standing up.  Told us she got shot at.  She never said one of the shots found its mark.  She didn’t say another word as she darted out into the afternoon light.

•          •          •

            Every so often, his thoughts returned to the girl he’d left at the border.  She’d been pretty, young, but insistent that he continue north while she went in another direction.  He could still remember her smile.
            “You’ve been a wonderful traveling companion, Cameron.  But there’s someone you need to talk to up there.  You know that in your heart, and I know that, too.  Keep right on following it and I’ll follow mine. Always listen to your heart.”
            She’d smiled, squeezed his arm, and they’d parted company.  She’d gone east and he’d continued north, following a gut feeling and her advice.  It’d been a week since then, a week of wandering steadily northward.  The smell of the ocean was everywhere as he worked his way north, mingled with the mists and the pines.  His horse didn’t seem to like it much, too damp and chill for his liking, apparently.   Cameron teased him sometimes, even though he was fairly certain the horse didn’t understand—or at the very least didn’t appreciate—the playful ribbing.
            But when all you’ve got to talk to his a horse, you make the best of what you’ve got.
            He’d seen destroyed towns, abandoned cars, and more bodies than he wanted to think about.  Sometimes, his mind trailed back to Star Wars, to the death of Alderaan.  A hundred thousand voices crying out and suddenly silenced.  It didn’t quite fit the situation, but it’s what he thought of when he thought about the day weeks ago when the destroyed asteroid’s fragments had rained down on the world.
            There was a lake in the distance; he could see it beyond the trees, just barely.  It was quiet out here, up here.  Two months ago, it would have been the ideal place to take leave, to just get away from anything and everything he could have worried about during his time off from the service.
            Now, it just felt eerily empty and quiet.
            But he was growing closer to what he was looking for, he knew that down to the marrow of his bones.  The sky was growing dark, either with storms or with gathering evening—unable to see the sun for the clouds, he wasn’t sure which was the case.
            The horse nickered softly, nosed his shoulder.  Cameron reached up to stroke the horse’s jaw.
            “It’s all right,” he said soothingly.  “We’ll find some cover before any rain starts.”  He hoped it wasn’t a lie, hoped it was sunset that was making the sky dark, not storm clouds.  Still, he began to walk a little faster down the roadway through the trees.  His sore feet protested a little—he hadn’t marched like this since Basic—but he pushed through.  They were so close, he could feel it.
            The hair on the back of his neck started to stand on end as he walked onward.  Cameron sucked in a ragged breath as his horse began to misbehave, pulling and shying, growing agitated by something neither of them could see, simply sense.
            He swallowed bile as the air around him went very, very cold, almost frosty.  Black mists rolled in through the trees, coalescing around he and his horse.
            Cameron moved quickly, scrabbling for the rifle lashed behind his saddle.  If whatever was coming was big, he’d wanted that rather than the sidearm at his hip.
            The howls began, and his blood went cold.  Something hit him around the waist and threw him sideways, tearing his hands from the weapon he’d almost freed from its bindings.  His horse screamed and bolted, galloping up the roadway and swiftly out of sight.
            Fuck me, Cameron thought as he rolled to a crouch, reaching for his weapon.
            Red eyes gleamed at him from the dark mists.  A keening sound like a woman’s cry mixed with a man’s scream split the air, vibrated his very being.
            Calm, he told himself, staring back at those eyes.  Calm.  Don’t panic.
            Then one came at him, claws outstretched, the ugliest hag from the depths of hell, all painted blacker than anything he’d ever seen in his life.
            Cameron “Dragon” MacKenzie rolled with that first blow and from there, launched into a fight for his life.

            Gray set down his mug and stood up slowly, tilting his head to study Eva with a careful, measuring gaze.  She met that gaze head-on, anger still smoldering in her eyes.
            “For the love of all that’s holy and sacred,” Gray rumbled after a moment, “are you really that angry at them?”
            Wait a second.  Is he actually buying what she’s selling?  Terézia blinked, looking between Gray’s back and Eva’s face.
            “Sometimes,” Eva said softly, voice little more than a whisper.  “Mostly I’m just frustrated.  Do you have any idea how upsetting it is to be called a witch and shot at?  I’ll tell you what, it’s no picnic and it’s happened twice in four weeks.  I’m lucky that I haven’t been burned at the stake yet, or tied up outside somewhere for feral dogs to feast on.”  She braced herself against the massive hearth for a second, shaking her head slowly.  “Most of us haven’t set foot on this plane since we were children, and that was millennia ago.  Now we’re here, in a broken world that even we don’t quite understand, and we’re supposed to show the lot of you how to survive.  How to keep going on when everything you’ve ever known is gone.  They never thought about how hard it would be for us to cope, how hard it would be for us to adjust.  It’s not easy.  It’s bloody hard, actually, and I think I hate it.  I really think I do.”
            Kess’s fingers dug into Terézia’s arm.  Terézia glanced toward her friend, frowning slightly.
            Kess shook her head a little.  “We can’t just throw her out there in the cold,” Kess whispered.  “Even if we do think she’s nuts.”
            “And if she’s some kind of sociopathic con artist out to murder us all in our sleep?”  Terézia hissed, throwing all the force she could muster behind her words.  Her strength, though, was ebbing.  Her heart was starting to ache.
            What if the girl was telling the truth after all?
            “Sit down,” Gray said soothingly.  “Have more of your tea and slow down.  You said you were going to start at the beginning, but you kind of skipped that part and came straight to the end plus editorial commentary.  You mentioned the Áes Dána.  What does Irish mythology have to do with anything?”
            Wat frowned.  “I thought she was talking about that weird music group.  Which is it?”
            Eva let out a weak little laugh as she dropped back down onto the bench and let Gray press the mug of tea back into her hands.  She took a long swallow before she shook her head.  “No, no, it’s not about music.  It’s…we’re…”  She sighed and rubbed a hand across her eyes.  “Irish mythology.”
            Terézia tugged on Gray’s sleeve.  He was grinning as he turned to look at her and that momentarily stopped her heart.  What the hell?  “Gray, clearly you’ve got a better idea of what’s going on here than I do.  Care to explain?”
            He just kept grinning and shook his head.  “Mythology, Teca.  Remember how we used to talk about it all being based in fact?”
            “In theory, it’s all based in fact,” she said, blinking rapidly at him.  “But only in theory.  Like great heroes have their stories transformed by bards into something more than they actually are.  Brigid becomes a goddess because of her martial prowess.  Hermes was a swift and cunning messenger, he’s remembered as a deity.”
            He pointed to Eva.  “And she’s telling us that there’s more truth to what we thought was simply a part of the myth perpetuated by bards for the sake of a good story.”
            Eva froze in the middle of taking another swallow of tea, caught off-guard by suddenly being the center of attention again.  She looked at them slowly, swallowed the tea, then set her mug down again.  “He’s right,” she murmured softly.  “You’re both right, in a way.  But heroes like Brigid and Hermes—the figures that became deified for their actions—had added advantages.  What do you know of Otherworlds?”
            “Sounds like a comic shop,” Wat said, crossing his arms.  Kess slugged him in the arm.
            “You mean like Avalon, Olympus, Valhalla?  Like that?”  Her eyes were shining.  Terézia stopped herself from burying her face in her hands.
            Have we all suddenly lost all grip with reality?
            Of course, it could be that they’d never really understood reality to begin with.  That struck her like a blow to the head and she sat down slowly again, next to Kess, and groped for her mug.
            Eva smiled weakly, nodding in response to Kess.  “Yes, like those, though Avalon was…less an Otherworld and more of a liminal space between here and there.”  She paused, tilting her head to one side.  “Did I use that word right?  It’s one of Teague’s favorites; he uses it all the time and I’m never sure whether or not I’m using it right.  Bloody scholar.”  Her hands waved like a fluttering bird’s wings.  “I’m getting distracted, forgive me.  What I was saying is that most of those heroes that the storytellers—and by extension, the mythology that’s survived to these modern times—had the advantage of being born elsewhere, many of them in Otherworlds or of Otherworld stock.  Some entities are kinder than others.  You wouldn’t want to run into Hecate in a dark alleyway, for instance.  She’d gut you as soon as she’d look at you and use your entrails to tell the future.”  Her nose wrinkled.  “Of course, I may be biased.  She’s had a bit of a stranglehold on this world for the past few hundred years, surprisingly enough.  You wouldn’t think a goddess of magic would have a stake in the magicless modern world, but she did.  She and the harpies and a cadre of other forces.  They weren’t happy to see us come back, let me tell you.”  She huffed another sigh.
            Terézia swallowed hard, staring, unable to speak.   Either she’s crazy or we really, really had no idea what the world was all about before today.  She really wasn’t sure which would be worse.
            “Have you seen them yet?”  Eva asked softly, staring at the four of them as she picked up her mug again.
            “Seen what?”  Kess asked.
            “The creatures.  The monsters, the things that go bump in the night, the things that’ll gut you as soon as look at you.  Have you seen any of them yet?”
            Terézia began to shake her head.
            “Yes.”

            “What?”  Terézia stared at Wat for a second.
            He simply shrugged and nodded to Kess.  “We did.  Put the mirror away and get out here.”  With that, he turned and stepped out of the room.  Terézia glanced at Kess, who simply shrugged.
            “Come on.”  She ducked out as well, following in Wat’s wake.
            Terézia cursed softly under her breath and hurried to follow, wrapping the mirror quickly and leaving it where it lay.  The scene that greeted her beyond the door wasn’t quite what she might have expected.
            A girl sat calmly on one of the benches next to the lodge’s double-doors, quietly removing her boots like they all did when they came inside, so they could spare themselves the agony of scrubbing the wooden planks every day.  Her hair was long, curly, the color of roasted chestnuts and appeared remarkably clean except for a few leaves and twigs caught among the curls.  She was dressed in skinny jeans, hiking boots, and a windbreaker.  The backpack in Gray’s hand must have belonged to her—it was a large pack, a backpacker’s pack,  complete with bedroll and tent strapped to it top and bottom.  The girl seemed too clean, though, to have been out backpacking in the mountains all this time since the breaking of the world.
            Terézia’s gaze flicked to Gray.  He inclined his head slightly.
            All right, Terézia thought.  I’ll wait.
            The girl finished with her boots and stood up, starting to unzip her windbreaker.  Her gaze lifted and her eyes met Terézia’s.
            Terézia took an involuntary step back, blinking rapidly.
            Those eyes.  How can her eyes be so damned old?  She looks like she’s not much older than Elton’s kids.  A teenager.
            The girl smiled, ducking her head slightly.  “Hello,” she said softly, her voice like bells—hand bells, church bells, all the tones and currents were there in one soft word.  Terézia’s heart began to beat a little faster.
            There was power in the girl.  Terézia glanced at Gray again, caught his grim smile.  He could feel it, too, probably more strongly than she did.  Her gaze slid back toward the newcomer.
            The girl was looking at them all again, mostly at Kess, Terézia, and Wat, since the others were still out and about, still doing this and that in the area—firewood, water, scouting, hunting.  They’d all be back before the sun went down, but that was still hours away.
            Terézia’s heart missed a beat.  If this girl meant to hurt them, it’d be a long while before the others realized it.
            The thought shocked her, sent shivers through her.
            I’m getting too damned paranoid, she thought, barely stopping herself from shaking her head.
            “I was glad to find you,” the girl continued.  “Though it took a little looking.  Still, I never would have found you here if I hadn’t sensed the scrying.  There was some…backlash, wasn’t there?  Did they harm you?  I could sense it, then the thread snapped.  Probably a wise idea, if a will-worker has that kind of ability at this distance.”
            Her accent was strange, Terézia noted, though her English was flawless.  She swallowed a little.  She sensed me scrying.  I’m not even sure I could sense me scrying.  Should she even be able to do that if she wasn’t my target in the first place?  She’d been simply seeking, though, casting a wide net.  It was entirely possible that was how the woman had caught wind of it.
            Another shiver worked its way down Terézia’s spine.  I’m not sure I like this.
            Kess glanced at Terézia and made a sour face.  Her expression smoothed out as she stepped toward the girl and offered her hand.  “I’m Kestrel.  Call me Kess, everyone does.  What’s your name?”
            A faint smile tugged at the corner of the girl’s mouth.  “A mouthful of vowels, I’m afraid.  Aoife O’Credne—Eva works just as well.  It can be difficult to get the true name right.”  She took Kess’s hand and shook it.  “Well met, Kess.  It’s my honor and pleasure.”  Eva inclined her head toward Gray and Wat.  “Your gentlemen friends have been fairly closed-mouthed about this whole affair, which struck me as a bit odd, but I suppose I shouldn’t judge.  Paranoid?”
            Gray showed the slightest bit of discomfort, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and shooting a quick, warning look toward Terézia.  He was nervous, too.
            Glad I’m not the only one.
            Wat just smiled his usual charming smile and shrugged, stepping forward and taking his hands out of his pockets.  “I can get a little nervous and tongue-tied when I see a pretty girl.  Call me Wat.”
            Eva smirked as he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.  “That’s short for something, I assume?”
            He nodded, still smiling.  “Yes, and perhaps before the night is out you’ll be blessed to know what it’s short for.”
            “More like cursed,” Terézia muttered, sighing and shaking her head.  She didn’t offer her hand, but she gave Eva a nod.  “Teca Ramsay.  I was the one doing the scrying you sensed.”
            Eva nodded slightly.  “I thought so.  It had a woman’s touch, though don’t ask me how I can tell.  There’s a certain kind of finesse a woman’s working seems to have versus a man’s.”  Her smile came brief, fleeting, but genuine and without an ounce of teasing or condescension.  “Scrying seems to be a more feminine talent sometimes, anyhow.  I can count on one hand how many men I’ve known that have even the slightest talent for it.”
            Terézia looked past the girl to Gray, who shrugged almost imperceptibly, a brief flicker of confusion showing in his eyes.  Eva glanced up over her shoulder at him, then looked back to Terézia and smiled again, briefly this time.
            “You don’t trust me.”
            Terézia shook her head.  “No,” she admitted.
            Eva shrugged.  “That’s all right.  I suppose you don’t have to, just listen and take what I say to heart at least enough to think about it.  It’s been a long road that’s taken us all to this point.  I’d hate to see everything come apart now simply because I come off as a little weird.”
            Kess frowned.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”
            Eva smiled a self-deprecating smile and gestured to the fire.  “Let’s sit down and have a cuppa and I’ll explain to you as I can the road that’s brought me here.  All I ask is that you at least pretend to believe me before you throw me out or tie me up because you think I’m crazy.
            “Because by the time I’m done, you probably will.”