“What makes ye think I’ve a brother?” Bee asked. She could feel Finn’s tension.

  The implications of this brute knowing who she was and what she was doing didn’t bear thinking about. As far as she was aware, only three people knew about her quest. One was a God, one sat beside her, and the other was her. As far as she could recall, she’d not told anyone what she was doing in the Five Kingdoms. So, that left two.

  “No point in being coy, Bechuille. I know who you are and what you’re doing here. I probably have a better idea what you’re doing here than you do.”

  Bee grabbed Finn’s wrist to stop him from pulling his knife. She suspected they would need to eliminate their new problem at some stage, but not in a crowded common room, not even in a shithole like the Boiled Cock.

  “How do you know me?” she asked.

  As an answer, the man delved into a leather sack hanging from his belt and pulled out what appeared to be a yellow metal tube. Bee raised an eyebrow and shook her head.

  “I was watching you through my spyglass. I’ve watched you since you arrived at the Cave of Cats.” Bee thought that if she tried to raise her eyebrow further, her scar would split. Still holding Finn’s wrist under the table, she considered letting go when the man held up his hands and said, “Listen, I know this is a shock. What if I sit and explain? If you’re not satisfied, then you can set your wolfhound on me.”

  Reading the man’s face, she could tell he didn’t think her wolfhound would be up to much. Judging by the adrenaline coursing through Finn’s wrist, he’d also noticed. Bee couldn’t help grinning as she said, “Sit. This better be good. Me wolfhound’s probably got a wider jaw and sharper teeth than you’d credit.”

  Nodding, the man put his spyglass away and sat, placing his hands on the table with his fingers spread. “It’s a long story, so please bear with me. I’ll be as brief as I can.”

  “We’ve all night, human, so work away,” Bee said. Finn’s stance remained the same, so she knew he disagreed. But it didn’t matter what the tracker thought. Bee needed to know how this man at their table knew what he did. If he was willing to sit there and tell them, all the better. Of course, he might just sit there spouting cac, but Bee didn’t think he would. There’d been no reason for him to come to them. Once Finn noticed him, he could have just slinked off into the murk, never to be seen again.

  “First things first, my name is Dornálaí. You might have gathered from my battered features that I used to be a ringfighter. One of the best, despite evidence that says otherwise—”

  “What evidence?” Finn interrupted.

  “ My old father, might áedh allow him entry, used to tell me that it’s not the battered ones you should be scared of, but those who did the battering.”

  “Aye, I reckon I can see the logic,” the tracker allowed.

  “Anyway, my reputation meant when I gave up the ring, I could make my meat and mead acting as a guard for those with enemies. So, I made a respectable living, guarding those who had enough silver. I wasn’t rich. Never rich. But I got by. Then, I was guarding a young one with too much mouth and not enough brains, you know the type?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Aye, who doesn’t.”

  “He got into a brawl with some other loudmouth, well-dressed, showing off to other well-dressed loudmouths. I knocked a couple on their butts. Turns out, the chief loudmouth was the eldest son of the King, Prince Balor. They threw me in the dungeons under the rock of Dún Ailinne. They were going to hang me in the City’s central square on the next Beltaine.”

  The man hesitated, calling a server over and ordering a couple of flagons of ale. As soon as they arrived and he’d poured three cups, he continued, “I would have hung, too, except the outlaws from the Great Forest chose that Beltaine to stage a protest by freeing all the prisoners. They broke into the dungeons, killed the guards, and dragged us off to their hideout in the Great Forest—”

  “I can see you’re no fílí,” Finn interrupted again.

  “And what, please do tell, does that mean?” Dornálaí asked, sniffing. Bee thought he would have lifted his nose if he had any sort of nose to lift.

  “Get to the point, Fat Man.”

  “Enough, Finn,” Bee hissed.

  The tracker glared at her but took a swig of ale and held his counsel.

  “Anyway, I swore my allegiance to the leader of the outlaws, Tadg mac Cein. Tadg’s gone now, but I watched his boy grow and am now serving him...”

  “I must admit,” Bee said, taking advantage of the man’s hesitation, “that I’m starting to think Finn has the right of it. Ye’re taking too long, which smacks of subterfuge. It’s like ye’re making it up as ye talk.”

  “All right, all right,” Dornálaí hissed, holding his hands up. “Are all you Fae this impatient?”

  Bee just stared at him, eye to eye, saying no more. “Right, then, the short version. Prince Balor is now King Balor, and his character flaws have grown with his station. He treats the people of Middle Kingdom like so much cac, and Tadg mac Cein’s son Ruirech has started a rebellion. He intends to retake the Kingdom for the people. He’s raised the clans of the Great Forest to start. The leader of Neit’s Maidens, Bairrfind—whom you know—”

  “We call her the Whitehead,” Bee said.

  “She told Ruirech that your brother is here searching for a weapon. Ruirech sent me to get to it first.”

  “That’s just lame,” Finn said. “Let me cut his throat.”

  Bee held up a hand. “What weapon?”

  Dornálaí shrugged. “All the Whitehead knows is that it is meant to be extremely powerful and that you were sent after Brenós to stop him getting it.”

  Finn gave her a hard stare, but she ignored him. “Ye still haven’t told me how ye know who I am.”

  “I missed Brenós by a donkey’s eyelash. The Whitehead told me that if I missed him I was to sit by the cave and wait for you to come through. She guessed someone would send you after him. So, I sat on a nearby rock and watched you. I could see you by the light of your fire the night the killers arrived. When you threw a hex into the cave, I knew it was you.”

  “How?”

  And more to the point, she wondered, how did he sit on a nearby rock and go unnoticed by Finn? Is Finn’s behavior just an elaborate act?

  “There aren’t many can throw a hex.”

  “No. I meant, how did the Whitehead know I was coming?”

  “She’s canny, that one. Maybe she got it from one of the Gods. You know, she might have gone through that gate thing of hers and spoken to one of the Tuatha.”

  Or, maybe one of the chiefs came through the gate and spoke to her, Bee thought.

  “Can I cut his throat now?”

  “No. We’ll be traveling together for a while, so we will.”

  So I can keep a watch on you both. It seems both of my allies are somewhat unexpected.

  “Oh, where are we going?” Dornálaí asked.

  “South. We’re going to Breslech Mór.”