Niamh tries too hard, Donal thought.

  Rows of saffron-colored hills no shorter than twenty feet lined the pass between Tír Tairnigire and Tír na nóg. No flowers. No trees. A hallway of brown dirt with no roof and no end.

  No one’s going through here unless they need to.

  It was another mile before the path jogged to the north.

  “At what point do we rest?” Brendan asked.

  “When we find a place we can rest,” Siobhan said. “Find me some water and some cover. Find me a place that doesn’t entrap us if something comes over the hills for us.”

  “You think something’s coming over the side for us?” Brendan asked. “We’ve heard nothing since Niamh left us.”

  “Can you be certain there isn’t?” Brigid asked. “With your extensive experience traveling this path?”

  Brendan raised his hands. “Fine.”

  “It’s a fair question,” Maura said. “About rest. We’re almost out of food, and you lot look absolutely knackered.”

  “These days and nights mess with our heads,” Siobhan said. “We’re losing our bearings. I’m oddly glad for these hills guiding our way.”

  “You know what else knocks us off-kilter?” Brendan asked. “Not going to sleep when it gets dark out.” He pointed to the dusky blue sky behind them. “Like it will be soon.”

  “Oi!” Ciara yelled as she pointed ahead. “Color!”

  Patches of grass clung to the northern side of the pass, merging into thin ground cover ten yards further ahead.

  “Listen,” she said. “Water!”

  Brendan ran up beside her as they followed the sound through the gap between two hills. A third hill plugged that gap from behind. A narrow stream of water poured out of it, splashing into a large puddle below.

  “She’s right,” Brendan said. “There’s a spring.”

  “Grand,” Siobhan said. “Everyone drink and refill your skins. We’ll sit for a while.”

  Each member of the group took their turn and sat at the foot of the hill. Donal yielded to Maura and went last. He held his skin under the spring to collect the water, but it fell to the ground and spilled when he collapsed to his knees. The feeling that something had grabbed his stomach and twisted was strong enough to make him pat his abdomen in search of the source.

  “Donal?” Maura asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” he said through gritted teeth. “I haven’t felt like this since—”

  “—Something’s wrong,” Brendan said as he stood and grabbed his staff. “Siobhan may have been right in trying to avoid camping here.”

  A low growl rumbled over the northern hills. A single bark boomed. Donal’s comrades scrambled to pinpoint the animal’s location.

  “I—I know that bark,” Maura said.

  “Does that mean it’s friendly?” Brendan asked. His grin vanished in the face of Maura’s withering glare.

  A second bark. Closer than the last.

  “It’s a Cú Sidhe!” Maura yelled. “Anyone see it?”

  Brigid and Ciara pointed in different directions.

  A third bark.

  “Take cover!” yelled Maura. She sprinted toward Donal. He thought he heard her footsteps echo off the top of the hill that held the spring. She bent forward and left her feet. Her shoulder was the first part of her to hit him. The force to his chest knocked him upward and then flat onto his back.

  He looked up at the hill and learned it wasn’t echoes he had heard. A giant dog landed on the ground where he had knelt. It shook its head and regained its balance. Long black fur covered the beast from head to toe. The last remnants of sun could not produce enough light to create the green shine that reflected off its coat. The dog’s tail drooped under the weight of its thick, tangled fur.

  “Thanks,” he said to Maura. “Not to sound ungrateful, but I need you to move to the side for a moment.”

  Maura frowned. “Or, better yet, I get off you completely and we fight that shaggy brute?”

  “Grand,” Donal said, climbing to his knees and raising a hand toward his gear.

  Maura pointed to Brigid. “My swords, quickly.”

  Brigid grabbed the weapons and lobbed them, one at a time, toward Maura. Donal’s spear flew towards him on its own and reached his hand first.

  “Neat trick,” Maura said, lifting her weapons from the ground before her.

  The flying weapons were a sufficient distraction to keep the beast off-guard for a few extra seconds.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “Maura and I will keep its eyes,” Donal said. “The four of you should be enough to flank. Just don’t take our numbers for granted.”

  Donal sidled toward the dog, his feet never meeting under him.

  “And who taught you to be talking like that?” Maura said.

  “Herself, only there,” Donal said with a bob of his head towards Siobhan. “And two of our people we lost contact with. We learned the hard way it goes badly if just run around with ten separate plans. Am I wrong?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Maura said. “I’m just surprised. My cousin rarely fancies men who can plan.”

  Donal looked at her. “It’s not a plan, though, is it? It just makes sense.”

  “Do you think this is a time for taking your eyes off your foe?” Maura said, jabbing a finger toward the dog.

  “It’s no bother,” Brendan yelled. “My sister and I have dealt with wolves much—”

  A creaky voice screeched from a nearby hilltop. Brendan leaped to his right to avoid the fireball as it struck the ground on which he stood.

  “Eyes up!” Siobhan yelled.

  Donal peered over his shoulder. A hunched figure hidden under a heavy cloak raised their arms and uttered something muffled by the distance between them. Dust from the ground beside them swirled upward as their arms came down. One second later the hooded figure floated above the ground. They moved their hands back and descended through the air toward the hound, which was now growling at everyone and backing itself into a hill.

  The unknown sorcerer floated directly over Maura and Donal, offering a glimpse of the attacker before the wind on which she levitated pressed the pair to their knees.

  “Is that her pet?” Donal asked.

  Maura scoffed. “How would that ever matter?”

  In the periphery of his eye, Donal caught Ciara running toward them. “What other reason would she have to leave higher ground and place herself in the middle of all of us?” he asked.

  “Doingaib?!” Ciara yelled.

  A fireball broke against her shield of purple light.

  Brigid and Siobhan advanced on the hound, ready to meet the sorceress as she landed.

  “Sai?et gealáin!” Brendan said. A flash of lightning soared over Donal’s head to the hills behind him.

  “How did you know that was coming?” Donal asked.

  “You didn’t hear that old crone cackling?” Ciara asked.

  “Must have been the wind in our ears,” he said.

  “The what?” Ciara asked. “Nevermind. Eyes sharp; this one had a wee pup of her own next to her not ten seconds ago.”

  Donal and Maura flanked Ciara and the trio pushed ahead.

  “Were you truthful about these being hags?” Maura asked, her eyes focused on the hilltops to their right. “Or were you just insulting them?”

  Ciara twitched a shoulder. “Both, actually. Whatever they are, they aren’t neighbors to Sorcha and Caitlín out for a stroll.”

  Another growl rolled down the hills on their left.

  “The second hound, I presume?” Donal asked.

  “‘Fraid not, lad,” Maura said. “The second one just stuck out its head on our right.”

  Donal stopped walking. “That means—”

  “—Brendan!” yelled Ciara. “Get your arse up here.”

  Brendan’s hurried footsteps approached from behind.

  Maura squeezed out a quick chuckle. “I’ll say this: you have that one trained well.”

  “It passed the time,” Ciara. “Not much else to do.”

  Donal knitted his brow. Surely she’s not making light of— “Oi,” he said. “Enough of that.”

  Maura turned to look at Donal. “What—”

  “—He’s right,” Ciara said in a tone softer than before. “What now, lad?”

  “Stop here,” Donal said. “Ladies, you bait the ones we can see into making their move. Brendan and I will protect your sides from the ones we can’t. The third hound surely didn’t come alone.”

  “Stand here in the open and wait for them to attack us?” Brendan asked.

  “Didn’t you make the innkeeper stand on a log in the middle of a forest and act as bait?” Ciara asked.

  “I did. When we were fighting your wolves.”

  “That’s beside the point,” Ciara said. “You’re not one to judge others’ plans.” A grimace took hold of her face. The purple light in front of them flickered. “I can’t maintain this anymore. When my shield fades, we spread out and follow the kid’s plan.”

  Ciara grunted and dropped her arm. The sorceress atop the hill screeched as the purple shield failed. The noise summoned a third cloaked figure. It, too, propelled itself with wind to ascend a hill on the left.

  “You two,” Donal said to Brendan and Ciara, “can you keep our new friend on the left busy?”

  “That depends on whether more guests are coming to the party.”

  Donal shook his head and looked at Maura. “Follow me. We’ll push the hound. My buckler’s for any spells. It’s down to your swords if the beast charges us.”

  “Lead on,” she said, “but that pot lid better hold together.”

  The second hound slowly approached Donal with its teeth bared. It cleared the halfway mark between Donal and the witch to their right, thirty yards away. The beast growled as Donal took his first steps.

  “Sai?et gealáin,” Brendan said.

  She reached her right arm across her body and swung it back to its proper side. “Neimnígid,” she screamed.

  Lighting leaped from Brendan’s hand toward the crone on the left but the bolt disappeared before it reached the intended target.

  The witch pointed at Donal. “Insaigid ar do clé.”

  The third dog came bounding from a gap between two hills and leapt at Donal. Donal turned his shield to face the charging beast.

  The hag on the right yelled as soon as Donal pivoted. “Rúac!” The hound in front of them burst into a run.

  Donal raised his rear leg until he felt it warm and drove to the ground for bracing. He looked up at the flanking hound as it fell toward him, its four limbs splayed, its mouth open, its eyes lifeless. Indeed, time moved slower in the Otherworld but the next second felt impossibly long. In his periphery Maura prepared for the other wolf’s charge. Brendan and Ciara yelled at the witches while red and pale blue light flashed over his head.

  The buckler’s not big enough to block all its claws and teeth, he thought. If I try to land him on my spear and miss, I’m dead before the fight starts.

  One option remained. How do I deflect a giant bleedin’ hound?

  Donal threw down his spear and deepened his squat. He folded his shield arm and held his buckler at shoulder height. He dropped his free hand to draw more energy from whatever plane he could tap.

  In the moment before the dog landed on him, Donal pushed off his bracing leg and fired his free hand into the one that held his buckler. The pain it caused his left hand reminded him of the time the family wagon rolled over his hand—but his timing was perfect. The center of the buckler struck the dog in its chest. His follow-through drove the dog upward and spun it backwards head over tail. The beast’s head hit the ground first and its legs flailed in the air for several seconds, but it did not right itself.

  Donal yelled in triumph, so surprised by his success that he lost track of the battle until Maura’s shouts roused his attention.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she yelled.

  The second hound had switched its focus from Maura to Donal. It was too close for him to attempt the same maneuver. He had only the time to hold the shield over his head, brace it with his free hand, and hope his sideways stance could absorb some of the force.