Book One - Chapter Five (Continued)
By Stephen Herron

The Sidhe stood, and brushed his coat down. He looked around, and walked out. Sean gritted his teeth, and pulled the knife out of the table. He felt blood on his lip as he bit it to prevent a scream. He gathered what Glamour he had left, and forced it into his hand to heal it. At the same time, he twisted a plain ring of polished wood that he wore on the wounded hand.

The pain and the wound faded away, leaving a fresh scar and a small pool of blood on the table. Sean moved his hand, and saw the inch deep hole the knife had left in the table top.

"That man will have to pay for this, " he said softly, only partly meaning the table.

It was nearly midday by the time Kestry and Galway arrived at the Brick Glade. They had driven around the city for three hours without finding a hint of the child. Kestry walked down the oaken stair, followed by Galway.

"I don't understand it, Galway. We should have found something," he sighed. The Troll nodded in confused agreement.

"Perhaps he has slipped away. Banality could have taken him, my Liege," said Galway, worried.

The pair emerged into the chamber below the city, and were surprised to see Govain sitting at the head of the table in a strange twisted chair. She watched them enter, but said nothing.

"Well. Hello, Govain. Have you been here long?" asked Kestry. Galway's eyes darkened, and he walked towards her.

"This may well be a place that can be freely entered by the True Duke's followers, " he said, his eyes glinting angrily, "but you are not allowed to sit THERE!"

With a roar, he slammed his huge fist into the table, and even Kestry took a step backwards. Govain smiled toothlessly at the Troll.

"Why, Lord Galway. You asssked nicely," she whispered. Kestry sighed, and walked forwards.

"Galway, leave her alone. We owe her for her help with Robin," he reminded his friend.

Galway glared at the young woman, and turned away in disgust.

"I haven't forgotten, Kestry. As have I not forgotten what she did to us, before you left."

Kestry exchanged a look with his Champion. The Troll really had not forgiven the Sluagh for her part in the work of Lorenzo, so long ago now.

"I have....regret for my actions then, " whispered Govain, standing. Her chair disappeared into the shadows, revealing the carved chair that acted as Kestry's new humble throne. She took a hesitant step towards the pair.

"I... am ssssorry. I was wrapped in my dark ssself. Now I am your ssservant, Kessstry. Truly. I have rejected Lorenzzzo."

Kestry gave her a grateful look, and laid his hand on Galways' arm.

"Forgive her, my friend. We have all had our share of blame in the past. All of us, " he said softly. Galway thought, and nodded, although, he did not look at Govain.

"Why have you come here, Govain?" asked Kestry. He let Galway walk across the chamber, to a small hidden door at the far side. It opened as he approached, and he disappeared through it.

"To warn you, my Duke, " whispered the Sluagh.

Kestry nodded slowly.

"Alright, then. Go ahead."

Govain leaned closer to him, so she could whisper into his ear.

"King Finn knows about the Belfast Child, my Duke. And he has taken a personal interest in the matter."

Kestry knew now why the Sluagh were despised. It was easier to hate the messanger than to try and cope with the message.

Sean O'Neil walked through the back streets of the city center, making his way towards the Brick Glade. He rarely went there, out of respect for the big man Galway. And he didn't usually get involved with the boring politics of the Sidhe, but Lorenzo had been hard to ignore.

"Hey! Sean!"

The voice came from the doorway of a backstreet pub. The sign above the door said "The First Glen", and Sean knew it as being one of the rougher places in Belfast. Despite the appearance, such a place was as friendly as any other, once one was accepted. And Sean, like a certain credit card, was accepted almost everywhere.

He walked into the bar, looking for the man who had called him. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he could see three familiar faces across the room. A few eyes had watched him enter, but had returned to their own business when they had recognised the 'man from the Y'.

"For goodness sake- Padriag!" he shouted, and walked over to where the three sat. He recognised the others as well.

"Dermott and Clancy. It's great to see you again, lads! What have you been doing?" he asked the young men.

Padraig, the oldest at about nineteen, smiled widely.

"Aw, you know, Sean. Keeping out of trouble, and having some good oule crack while we're at it!" he laughed, and waved to the pub owner.

"Get our mate a bevvy!" he shouted. The man behind the bar nodded, and began to pull a pint of beer for Sean.

"It's nice to see you, mate," said the youngest man, who at seventeen barely belonged in the pub.

"Aye, Clancy. You keeping well?" asked Sean. He was fond of the quiet young man who had beaten him at chess more than once back at the YMCA.

"Oh, aye. The lads here are showin' me the ropes, y'know?"

Sean nodded. He glanced across at Dermott, whose eyes were scanning the bar and the entrance for trouble. He could see out into the street from his chair, even though it was far back in the pub. It was Dermott who had shouted out at him.

"And you, Dermott. Still working as a bouncer?" asked Sean. The heavy set man nodded. At eighteen he was well-built, and had been boxing since he was eight. Padraig leant across the table, and indicated for Sean to move closer.

"Listen. What the hell is goin' on? Last week, I mean. That Chrysalis," whispered Padraig harshly. There was a clump of hooves beneath the table, as the three Satyr's legs, hidden by the darkness, shuffled uneasily.

"Sorry, lads. All I know is that Kestry is trying to find the Childing before that gobshite Lorenzo does," spat Sean, flexing his wounded hand. Dermott glanced down at the wound.

"Did he do that to you , Sean? Do you want us to sort him out?" he said in a deep rich voice. Sean looked at him, and could see the tiny horns on his forehead. He knew that most of the other occupants of the pub couldn't see them. Maybe.

"No, it's alright. You just take care of Clancy. He's not been Kithain for two years yet. He needs to be kept out of trouble."

Padraigh laughed, and the atmosphere of the pub was richer for it, as the deep rich sound filled the place with freedom and joy. Even Sean had to smile.

"Sean, you oule eejit. We can look after ourselves, mate. And you. You've been very good to us. Kept us out of the Provisionals when others our age signed up. I wouldn't fancy havin' been kneecapped by the Loyalists."

He grinned, and his teeth were too sharp.

"Mind you, they would have had a tough time sortin' out where my knees were..."

The boy stood at the boarded up window of the house, staring out through the gaps. He watched the other children play, and felt a pang of sadness. Matthew knew his father wouldn't like others to know that they were staying here, and he agreed that it was safer to stay inside.

He shut his eyes, and the images filled his mind's eye again, of green fields and tall trees, with crystal spires rising far above him. He could almost put a word or a name to the place, but what had seemed so clear to him last week when it first came to him was fading away now, as the hunger he felt grew. He felt sad at that.

"Matthew! Come here, child!"

His mother's voice mad him jump a little, but he turned and obediently walked back to her.

"Yes, mummy?" he asked. She smiled weakly at him, and held out her arms.

"Give me a hug, Matthew. Give your mum a hug."

He wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair. It smelt clean and fresh, and he imagined what his mother looked like when she was his age. He imagined a little girl on a horse, riding through the trees of a rich green forest.

"I love you, mummy," he whispered to her, and he tried to pretend that she wasn't crying.

Sean rapped on the blocked up doorway of the Brick Glade. It shimmered very slightly, and he walked through it, leaving no trace of his passage. He made his way down the oak stair, and arrived in the chamber below. He didn't expect it to be so busy. Kestry was there, along with Galway and Govain. He could even see Robin, the little Pooka, sitting at the table with Galway, doing her homework. She looked up to see Sean stand watching the crowd.

"Goodbye, Sean! I only saw you this afternoon!" she said. Galway nudged her.

"Get on with your work, Robin, " he said sternly, and Robin meekly nodded, returning to her writing.

Kestry stood, and walked over to Sean, his hand outstretched.

"Sean, my friend. It's good to see you," he said, grasping the Boggan's hand. The man winced, and Kestry frowned.

"Is all well?" he asked, concerned. Sean shook his head slowly.

"I had a very unwelcome visitor this morning, Duke Kestry," he said sadly. He took out the letter Lorenzo had left him. Kestry stared at it, sensing the cold aura it gave off.

"I see. Lorenzo. Did he do anything to you?" he asked. The Boggan nodded.

"Nothing I can't handle."

Kestry opened the letter and sat at the head of the table to read it. The room was hushed as his eyes moved across the paper, reading Lorenzo's scratchy writing.

"My god, no."

His words were murmured, but carried. The others exchanged worried looks. Galway tried to read his friends face, but couldn't. It was as if a shadow had settled across his expression. Govain shifted uneasily in her chair. Of them all, she alone suspected what was in the letter. Her contacts in the Shadow Court had warned her.

"What is it, Kestry?" asked Galway. Robin held his hand, looking scared. Kestry stood, and without a word, walked out of the Brick Glade. The others watched him leave, except for Galway, who stood and followed Kestry out. Robin looked at Sean and Govain, her eyes pleading.

"I really don't want to know what was in that letter, " she said softly, and even Govain wasn't sure if she was lying or not. Still, she thought, it was up to her to break the truth to the child.

"I think," she sighed, "that the letter was a summons to the Ulster Court. I think that King Finn wants to find out what has been going on in Belfast since Kestry came back."

Sean shuddered at the thought of Kestry's punishment last time at the hands of the King, and wondered what he would do this time. Robin's eyes were wide.

"I definately don't want to know what he will do to him," she whispered. The Sluagh shrugged.

"If he's lucky, he might just die."