“We are fortunate to have a place of refuge. And there’s no denying our bed is a comfortable one.”
“Our bed?” Devin’s eyebrows shot up.
“Cap, Airech and myself. We’re fond of communal sleeping. It’s not sexual. It’s traditional for bands such as ours.”
Devin felt a swing in the pit of his stomach at the thought of joining them, even as he quietly teased Fintan. “Sure. Traditional. Sounds cosy.”
“Very,” Airech said over his shoulder, making him jump. He slid onto the furs in front of Devin, his wavy hair splaying out behind him as he lay back, stretching like a cat in a sunbeam. He patted the space beside him. “There’s plenty of room for more. Even with Cap and all his muscles.”
“Maybe later.” Devin stood up hastily, retreating to a wooden bench by the crackling fire. Fintan sat across from him so the flickering blaze was between them.
“Mind the flames. They burn much brighter than regular fire. They’ll warm you soon.”
“I’d warm you sooner,” Airech said, grinning.
Devin felt his cheeks burning from Airech’s remark as the heat of the fire made his chilled hands tingle. The flames were the sparkling blue of arctic ice. Out of the corner of one eye, he could see Airech lolling with his head resting on his hands, watching him with a bemused expression.
“What is this place?” Devin asked.
“Kilcornan caves,” Fintan replied. “The Cavern of the Wild Horses.”
A long-distant memory reared up to startle Devin.
“This is Kilcornan? Seriously? I never knew it was real.”
“You know it?” Airech looked curious.
“My Dad used to tell me a story about it. It was like our bedtime story when I was a kid.” He frowned. “The strange thing is, it’s about Aill Na Searrach, too. Foal’s Leap. The place I was standing when I…”
“When you first saw us?” Airech winked at him. “So we’re not pretending that didn’t happen anymore? That’s a relief.”
“Tell us your story,” Fintan urged him.
“My Dad told me that when the Christians first tried to destroy the pagan ways, seven Tuatha Dé Danann gods ran from them and found refuge in a cave. This cave. They lived in the shadows until they couldn’t stand it any longer, and one night, they transformed themselves into foals and made a run for freedom. But there was a terrible storm, with heavy rain and mist. And in the mist they ran off the edge, falling into the sea. They died before they could turn themselves back into gods.”
A low guttural sound made Devin spin around. Hovering near the shadows of the entrance tunnel, the man from the café was standing, watching him. His face was no less forbidding and his fierce eyes made Devin’s heart beat erratically in triplet time.
“Oh, it’s you,” Devin blurted out.
Well done, Devin. Very articulate.
The man’s handsome, tortured face made him seem unapproachable and vulnerable all at the same time. Devin was reminded of Bren’s throwaway remark about Heathcliff. There was definitely an air of poetic tragedy about him.
Devin held on to the vain hope he might be immune to this man’s charms, despite the way his body had reacted when he’d first seen him. He didn’t usually go for the tormented, complicated ones. They reminded him too much of himself. His optimism lasted for about as long as it took the hulking man to walk within touching distance of him, making his instincts go off like an alarm. Warning. Pleasure and pain ahead, twelve o’clock.
I guess that’s strike three.
“Capall Donnrua.” Fintan’s greeting to the man almost sounded like a warning.
“I’m Devin.” The man looked suspiciously at Devin’s proffered hand like it might be some kind of venomous spider. Finally, he gave a curt nod and strode away, ducking through a natural arch in the far wall next to the sleeping platform. Devin slumped back on the bench.
Airech came over to sit beside him. “And that,” he said, “was Cap.” He patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. He hasn’t spoken in a thousand years. He doesn’t do handshakes either.”
“What does he do?”
Airech shrugged. “He stares, mostly. And sometimes, he smashes things.”
“How does he communicate, then?”
“Was he communicating something to you?”
“Several things.”
“There you go.”
Devin sprawled by the fire. His body was puddle of relaxed warmth and the sting was gone from his face, thanks to Fintan’s balm. He’d been pleasantly surprised to find a bathroom area through the archway Cap had taken, with plumbing that took advantage of the cave’s natural drainage system. But its best feature was a deep spring of soothing mineralised water warmed by an enchantment, and a long soak had thawed him out.
Delicious smells wafted from the fire, where a pot bubbled. Airech called it his mystery stew, and except for its alarming dark purple colour, it didn’t look too unappetising. No worse than one of Tom Kelly’s bachelor meals. It was no wonder one of the first things Devin and Bren had done in their foster home was to teach themselves to cook.
“Your father, who knew the old stories. Where is he now?” Fintan’s gentle eyes encouraged him. Devin sat up, the softness deserting him, Fintan’s words turning him to stone.
“Gone.”
“And your mother?”
“Gone.”
“Care to elaborate?” Airech asked.
“Not. Coming. Back.”
Devin felt the heavy silence settle. Cap pinned him to the bench with his relentless stare. But then, staring was his thing, according to Airech. Devin tore his face away and looked deep into the flames of the fire.
“I am sorry, Devin,” Fintan said.
Devin shrugged off his sympathy. “I can’t talk about it, alright? I never do.”
“I understand. So, what can you tell us?”
Airech leaned back, looking Devin up and down. “Let’s start with favourite sexual positions.”
Devin lifted his chin and glared straight back at him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
“That information is not urgent or relevant,” Fintan admonished.
“I would say it’s both,” Airech said with a grin.
“How about you go first?” Devin nodded towards Fintan. “I don’t know about you lads, but I’m happy to skip the part where I google my little fingers to the bone and slowly piece it all together. Go ahead. I think you’ll find I’m unshockable.”
“What do you think we are?” Fintan asked curiously.
“Sorry. I’ve got nothing. Except maybe, time travellers? That’s the only thing I can think of. You told me you’re from the ancient past, so I guess it makes sense I pulled you a few thousand years into the future.”
“No. There are times I wish I could have avoided a millennium or two,” Fintan said with a small smile. “But we’ve lived through every day of them. We’re immortal. Gods.”
After his eventful afternoon of disappearing clothes and magical blue fire, Devin wasn’t as shaken as he expected to be.
“You mean you’ve got superpowers? Like Thor? And Loki?”
Airech gave him a condescending look. “Let me take a stab in the dark here and say most of your knowledge of deities comes from Marvel movies.”
“Of course not,” Devin said. “I saw Wonder Woman too.”
“Oh, in that case, you’re an expert,” Airech shot back, smirking.
“We all have the ancient magic of Ireland,” Fintan explained. “Long ago, many in this land did, not only the gods. But it’s all but forgotten in the mortal realm now. As for our powers, we all have distinct skills, because we come from different tribes. We formed our band about a century ago, although we’ve been acquainted with each other much longer than that.”
“How did you meet?”
“I first met Cap and the rest of his tribe, the Tuatha Dé, in battle. They were invading, and I was the chief advisor for the other side.”
“Makes a change from Grindr I guess.”
Airech tossed his hair back. “And then my family invaded and drove Cap’s tribe underground.” Cap’s scowl deepened as Airech leaned over and squeezed his leg. “We’re Milesians. Gaels. The first of the Irish people. I’m descended from Scotia, the Egyptian princess. You probably know her name.”
Devin shook his head. “Doesn’t ring any bells.”
“She’s had a few things named after her. Heard of Scotland, by any chance?” Airech asked acidly.
“That one does sound familiar.” Devin grinned, enjoying Airech’s look of annoyance. “And who did you conquer, Fintan?”
“I’m not the conquering type,” Fintan said. “I came here with one of Noah’s daughters during the Great Flood. I was the only survivor, so I’m the oldest man in these lands. Some say the wisest,” he added humbly.
Airech rolled his eyes. “And I’m not one of those.”
“Considering how you all met, it seems fairly friendly between you.” Devin glanced over at the sleeping platform behind them. “I mean, you do share a bed.”
“We’re not friends,” Airech said. “We’re allies, and reluctant ones at that.”
“Allies. That makes me think of war.”
“There will be a war.”
From Airech’s tone, Devin knew immediately that for once, he was being serious. Frowning at Airech, Fintan gave a small shake of his head.
Airech glowered back at him. “You’re the one who went ahead and revealed our secrets with your whole ‘Magic is real’ routine. It’s too late to hide the truth from him now.”
Fintan gave a deep sigh. “Perhaps you’re right.” He turned to Devin, his face troubled. “You’re wondering what three former enemies are doing together? We’ve united to fight a great evil. One that threatens all of us. When the mortals of Ireland face grave danger, the ancient gods of the Otherworld must send someone to protect them. Or both realms with be no more.”
“So you really think this evil is coming? To Ireland?” Devin tried not to sound as disbelieving as he felt.
“Yes,” Fintan said gravely. “Soon.”
“And someone from your world is going to stop it?”
“Or die in the attempt. Probably the latter,” Airech said with a grim smile. “If we don’t kill each other first. There are four different tribes of immortals with the same prophecy, each saying that one of their people will be the chosen saviour of Ireland.”
“And who’s right?” Devin’s head spun from his impromptu history lesson. Ever since his near drowning, he’d found it that much harder to concentrate. He forced himself to focus, listening to Fintan intently as the god answered him.
“I’ve come to believe they all are. Four gods, from four tribes. I don’t believe it was by chance the three of us found ourselves called together. More like a curse than a calling, because we had no say in it. Nevertheless, our band fulfils the prophecies so far. One from the mortal world, the tribe of Noah. One from the Tuatha Dé. One a son of Míl. We’re still waiting for our fourth.”
Devin felt his heart sliding into his stomach. He liked Fintan. A lot. But this whole conversation was beginning to make him uneasy. These gods had brought him into their world and now they were telling him stories about an ancient prophecy. And thanks to Bren, Devin had seen enough films with ancient prophecies to guess where this might be heading. He wasn’t keen on disappointing anyone, but there was no way he was putting his hand up to be the chosen one in some apocalyptic battle between good and evil.
He looked at Fintan regretfully. “I’m sorry, but it can’t be me.”
He wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting, but it wasn’t Fintan’s guilt-ridden expression. After a few moments, the god spoke gently.
“Devin, I’m sorry if I misled you. I didn’t mean to imply that you are our fourth. That simply isn’t possible. I’ve studied the prophecies for a century, and there’s nothing in them to indicate it might be you.”
“Oh. That’s a relief, then,” Devin said, slightly deflated. It was one thing to refuse great power and responsibility; it was another for Fintan to hint he wasn’t worthy of it in the first place.
Fintan caught his crestfallen look. “Don’t misunderstand me. You are special. There’s no doubt in my mind. You summoned us for a reason. Finding out that reason is something we all have to discover, together. But it’s getting late, and it’s time to eat now. And sleep. In the morning, we’ll begin. I want to see what you can do.”
“We’re all keen to see that,” Airech said. It might have been the heat of the fire, but Devin was fairly sure it was Airech’s devilish grin that made his face flame again.
Chapter 13
Devin
“Good morning, Devin.”
Devin pulled a fur away from his face to find Fintan leaning over him, backlit by enchanted starlight. Slowly he became aware of the pleasant heat behind him from skin on skin.
He leaned back into it, feeling Cap’s hairy chest firm against his back and one huge hand resting on his hip. It was a cosy feeling, to be curled up in the curve of Cap’s body. Like sleeping next to a living, breathing teddy bear. One the size of a grizzly. And having Cap’s large cock pressed against him was enjoyable too, in a different sort of way.
When he’d fallen asleep, Devin had been a few feet away from Cap and the others, on the edge of the sleeping platform. But sometime during the night, Cap had pulled him closer. It was hard to believe he hadn’t stirred. It was opposite of his usual sleep, constantly torn with vivid nightm
He lay quietly for a few minutes, inhaling Cap’s musky scent, a heady mixture of clean sweat and baled hay. It brought him straight back to winter mornings on the farm, helping Tom with the animals. And speaking of animals, wild feelings were galloping through him, and it was definitely time to pull on the reins. Carefully, he slid out from under Cap’s arm, while the god slept on, Airech sprawled on the other side of him. As Devin sat up, Fintan looked at him curiously.
“It was eighty years before he would allow me to get that close to him.”
Devin didn’t know how to answer, or even if Fintan expected him to. It wasn’t as if he could explain it. Cap was a puzzle to him, with his sudden severe looks and unpredictable temper. But after observing him for an evening, Devin had realised he was more predictable than he seemed. His abrupt flare-ups were almost always directed at Airech. Not that he didn’t deserve it at least half of the time, with his cocky self-assurance and constant innuendos. He doubted he would have been left in peace if Airech had been his spooning partner.
He slipped on his clothes, and Fintan motioned him to follow, past a cluster of stalagmites and through an opening into a narrow passageway. There were no stars here and Devin stumbled on the uneven rock, keeping one hand on the wall to steady himself as the passage began to slope steeply downwards. Finally, they came to a small arch in the wall, barricaded with the rocks and stones lodged in the opening.
Fintan spoke in an undertone. The rocks slid out, one by one, stacking themselves neatly on the ground, revealing another passage. Taking it, they turned a corner.
Devin was stunned to see the clifftop in front of him, but not exactly the one he knew. This one was untamed, with no car park or visitor centre, no paths or fencing. And definitely no buskers.
“It’s a parallel realm,” Fintan said. “An immortal one. Tír nAill. The Otherworld. I spent over a thousand years in this realm before I was called back. Peaceful, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. It’s a bitteen too quiet. I think I’d be out of a job here.”
Looking more closely, Devin could see the differences between this world and his own. Everything—the rocks, the sky, the water, was more. More beautiful, more dramatic, more breath-taking. At the same time, the brutal harshness of the landscape had been muted, making it warmer and milder.
“Portals are one of the ways immortals travel from realm to realm. The one we passed through takes you anywhere you want to go
, as long as you state your intention when you open it. Others are more basic. They’ll only bring you to their mirror, their counterpart, in the other realm.”
“And are there many of these portals?”
“Hundreds. Under every ring fort, standing stone and dolmen. Beside every rowan tree. There are many ways to travel to the Otherworld if you know where to look. Or how to look.” Fintan turned to Devin. “But I’ve brought you here for a reason. You’re very familiar with the mirror of this place, the one in the mortal world. So it will be easier for you to practice summoning spells from one to the other.”
Devin stood gazing over the clifftop. The water was a different colour here, an aqua blue, shot with sparkling strands of sea green. “I’m not sure I get what you mean.”
Fintan smiled encouragingly. “You summoned us from the Otherworld, so I know you can do it. The question is, can you do it more than once, and in the opposite direction? Can you summon something from the mortal realm, to this one?”
Devin gave him a look. “Summon somebody else? I think the three of you are about as much as I can handle.”
Chuckling, Fintan patted his arm. “I didn’t mean another god. Try summoning something you associate with this place. An object. Nothing too complicated.”
“But how?” Devin demanded.
“Picture the mortal realm in your mind, and the object within it,” Fintan said. “Then reach out and take it. Sing it to you.”
Taking a deep breath, Devin closed his eyes and inhaled the mellow warmth of eternal spring, listening to the strange stillness. He pictured his cliff with its gale buffeting him, tearing at his hair, his lips stinging from the salt-laden air. He hummed a tune, hearing his fiddle’s music being carried on the breeze. Concentrating hard, he imagined himself there, until the illusion became so real he could feel his skin tightening and his ears aching from the icy wind.
“That’s it, Devin. Continue,” Fintan encouraged him.
His head swam from the strain of stretching himself between two worlds. He felt something give, opening up to him, and instinct took over.
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