Chapter Text
It turned out that Mochta was correct in his concerns about Ronan's reaction. Ronan didn’t reject Mochta's offer outright, but he was immediately suspicious.
After much fruitless back and forth, Mochta finally said, “You think all the magic is here. But I think that’s just because you have to spend most of your time there. So many things in the human world I’d never see if I stayed here. And I am human.” He fixed Ronan with a challenging glare. It was very Lynch-like.
“Huh,” Ronan said. He returned Mochta’s glare with a skeptical one of his own, but didn’t say anything else.
“You could ask my opinion, you know,” Aurora reproached them. They both turned to look at her, abashed. “You’re both right. Mochta should get to come with me, but he can’t get up to mischief, as Ronan put it. Don’t give me that look,” She added to Mochta, “I’ve seen you.”
“So, what,” Ronan grumbled, “You’re volunteering to supervise?”
“I’m volunteering to parent .”
Ronan’s face did something strange and unhappy. Aurora’s expression mirrored his; she started to say something, then closed her mouth into a thin line.
Adam stepped closer to Ronan and gripped his elbow. “Maybe,” Ronan said in a small voice. They all looked at him. “Maybe that’s a topic for once you’re out of here.”
Aurora pursed her lips and tilted her head, but she seemed to be looking through Ronan, towards the doorway. “I wasn’t trying to avoid it.”
“No,” Ronan agreed. Adam gripped his arm tighter. “But we need to focus. I’m afraid--” his voice sunk, and he forced out the rest of the words like they were traveling through syrup. “--We might not figure it out in time.”
Aurora’s gaze snapped sharply back to Ronan. “We’ll make it, a stór, we’re so close,” She said gently. Then more briskly, “What’s left?”
Ronan didn’t seem inclined to answer, so Adam did. “We need Opal to agree. And she seems to be avoiding us.”
Aurora didn’t answer right away. “I saw Opal a lot more often,” She said slowly, “When I first got here. Then I started spending most of my time in Tír na nÓg proper and less in Cabeswater….I thought Opal just preferred it here, but she can’t leave, can she?”
“No,” Ronan affirmed. “As far as I know. She won’t talk about it directly.”
They both looked at Adam in a way that made him uneasy. “You think she’ll talk to me?”
“Dunno,” Ronan said. “But she hasn’t talked to the rest of us about it, so.”
Adam took a deep breath. “Okay. I can go look for her now, and you can go back to the house like you told Matthew you would.”
Ronan scowled, but didn’t object.
Adam searched in vain for a while before he remembered he could ask Cabeswater where Opal was. It directed him to a part of the forest he hadn’t visited before, more primitive and tangled with undergrowth than the areas Ronan frequented. He picked his way through bushes and vines and even large ferns until he finally came to a thicket that seemed to have an intentionally shaped entrance about the size of an Opal.
He stooped to enter the opening, then stopped. This seemed to be Opal's house; he shouldn't enter without her permission. “Opal?” He called.
A tunnel about the same height and width as the entrance extended a little way into the thicket. Adam could just see where it opened up into a larger area. Opal appeared at the other end of the tunnel with a baleful glare, though it mellowed a bit when she saw Adam.
“Is anyone else with you?” She asked suspiciously.
“Just me.”
Opal considered. “If Cabeswater brought you here, I guess you can come in.”
Adam crept through the tunnel and emerged into the open area, which was thankfully a bit taller than he was. It was carpeted in a soft moss, but the ground was clear of any other growth. A few branches around the perimeter grew out horizontally, close to the ground like seats or perches. The only unnatural part of Opal’s dwelling was a nest of pillows and blankets in various states of grunge.
Adam suspected that some of the bedding might be ancient rather than just grimy. He walked over to the heap, aware of Opal’s eyes on him. A thick, coarsely woven blanket with a natural tan color caught his eye. He pulled it up for closer inspection.
“I didn’t steal,” Opal said defensively. “Lynches gave them to me.”
I didn’t think you stole them,” Adam said. He rubbed his thumb across a threadbare spot on the blanket. “But some of these are very old, aren’t they? You’ve been here for a long time.”
“Time is different here,” Opal hedged. She sized him up before adding the next sentence. “But it’s still been a long time.”
“And you can’t leave Cabeswater,” Adam added. Opal had joined him by her nest, and now she flopped down and buried her face between a newer-looking pillow and a wad of ancient blanket. Adam gently prodded her shoulder until she turned enough to look at him out of the corner of one eye. “Are you allowed to tell me why?”
“Nobody said I couldn’t,” Opal said vehemently into the pillow. “But I’m stuck here forever so it doesn’t matter. ”
Adam considered this. “Well, I think you’re too smart to get stuck here forever by your own decision. It’s a punishment?” Opal slammed her forehead into the pillow a few times.
“Your punishment shouldn’t last forever.” Adam knew the sidhe did things differently, but he couldn’t imagine that being made responsible for guarding the doorway was a sentence for something big, like mass murder.
Opal rolled over onto her back to look up at him. “The sidhe don’t care if you’re not one of theirs.”
No matter how Adam tried to parse that sentence, it didn’t make sense. “But aren’t you…” Opal just glowered at him, apparently done explaining. “Glaistig doesn’t sound like an Irish word,” Adam realized. “You’re from another country-- well, not that. Another part of the Otherworld.”
“Something like a country,” Opal conceded.
Adam itched to ask what had happened, but instinct told him it would halt all his progress. He skirted the edge of the subject instead. “Who trapped you here? As long as we’re negotiating with sidhe, maybe we can talk to them too.”
Opal sat bolt upright and hissed, a terrified, feral sound. “ Don’t ,” she said. “She will hurt you.”
“We--” Adam began. He was stopped by Opal jumping to her feet and squeezing her arms around his waist. “I’ll help,” she said desperately, voice muffled because her face was smooshed against Adam’s ribs. “As long as nobody else gets trapped trying to free me.”
“Okay.” Adam wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They were shaking. How had he missed the misery under her wariness and petulence? “Okay, we’ll find a way where nobody’s trapped.”
“You won’t ,” Opal said, going limp against him. “That’s what I’m saying. Someone always has to be here guarding the doorway.”
“They don’t have to be imprisoned in Cabeswater. Ronan isn’t, on our side.”
“It’s different here.”
“Different how?”
Opal stayed limp and quiet for so long that Adam held onto her shoulders to keep her upright while he knelt to check on her. She had her head down and her eyes screwed shut, though if she’d been crying no tears had leaked out. “It sounds to me like you don’t want to hope for it,” Adam said gently.
“Hope is stupid,” Opal spat, without opening her eyes. Adam wondered how many generations of Lynches had passed through while Opal stayed here, how many of them had recognized her imprisonment and tried to end it. How many decades or centuries had it taken to quash hope completely?
“Alright,” he acknowledged. “Don’t do it, then. But we’ll still try.”
Opal opened her eyes to fix him with one of her fierce glares. “Don’t.” She ordered, “Do anything stupid.” Adam heard don’t do anything so stupid as hope and wondered if he was reading too much into it.
“It’s time for you to leave,” Opal added. She pushed his hands off her shoulders and stepped back. “Just tell Cabeswater when you need me.”
There was nothing else to say, or at least nothing Opal would listen to. Adam left.
Ronan was furious when he learned about the indeterminate length of Opal’s captivity, but it was an aimless fury. “I don’t even know where to start fixing that,” he lamented, after exhausting his flood of lyrical curses.
Matthew was more dejected than angry. “I thought we were making it all better. I thought Mum and Mochta coming home would make everyone happy --” Ronan scowled at the mention of Mochta -- “But we have to do something for Opal, don’t we?”
“Fucking obviously,” Ronan snarled.
“Yeah,” Adam agreed. He considered the two frustrated, exhausted men in the room. No, three; he was definitely included there. “But we don’t have to do it right now. We should take our time and make sure to get it right.”
“Makes sense,” Matthew said, somewhat calmer. “We should wait for Declan, too. He knows things.”
“Screw Declan,” Ronan grumbled, because Declan was a convenient outlet for his ire. “I know things too.”
They waited for Declan. Ronan and Matthew still visited Aurora daily; they also hashed out the details of their bargain with Mochta, but for now Adam knew only as much as Ronan told him, which tended to be along the lines of that went better than expected or that was a complete shitshow.
Adam himself tried to get ahead on schoolwork while the others were in Cabeswater. He wasn’t part of the bargain, and Opal clearly hadn’t wanted him to come back. He was going to be part of freeing Opal, though; he would’ve said he knew it intuitively, except he sometimes heard verdant rustling sounds just at the edge of hearing and saw flashes of green and brown from the corner of his eye.
The day before Declan and not-Aurora arrived, Adam received an email from Seondeok. It was a forwarded receipt for two flights to Galway. All Seondeok had added was: Persephone said I should be there. Henry is coming as well.
“Jesus,” Declan groaned, because Ronan had seen fit to inform him of this as soon as they’d arrived at the house and settled not-Aurora in the master bedroom. “What for? I was under the impression we had Mum’s bargain straightened out.”
Ronan grimaced. “I still think we do. This might have to do with Opal. And….doorway stuff.”
“Doorway stuff,” Declan echoed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Doorway stuff and Seondeok. You think something’s wrong with the doorway protection?”
“Not wrong….maybe kinda wrong? I don't--” Adam jostled his shoulder against Ronan’s so he’d shut up.
“ What are you talking about? You haven’t said anything about the doorway recently.”
“I didn’t wanna break your concentration,” Ronan said, leaning into Adam’s shoulder with enough force that he had to brace himself. “There wasn’t really anything to say. Mum just said she needed to tell us about the doorway bargain once everyone was here.”
“Well, everyone’s here,” Matthew piped up before Adam or Declan could complain about Ronan’s reticence. “We could go now?”
“It would be good to while Mum--” Declan broke off and shook his head, gesturing towards the closed bedroom door. “While she’s sleeping. But first I need coffee and breakfast. And coffee.”
After breakfast, and after Declan had downed coffee at a rate that put Adam’s study-session consumption habits to shame, they travelled through the doorway. Declan stopped just inside Cabeswater and contemplated it silently.
After a long while, he said, “I haven’t been here since I was...five, maybe.”
Ronan snorted. “That’s on you, man.”
“I didn’t--” Declan snapped. He stopped and rubbed his temples. “Fine, I guess technically I could’ve come back. But the trees don’t talk to me.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Ronan said more soberly.
“They don’t talk to me either,” Matthew said unconcernedly. “I think they like me though.”
“It’s fine,” Declan said, though Adam had his suspicions about whether it actually was fine. “Do we know where Mum is?”
“With the birds, probably.”
“You have multiple birds now?” Declan asked. His eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you kept the monster that tried to kill you.”
“Chill, she’s just a baby. She likes us now that we rescued her from Piper.”
Declan frowned at Ronan, but followed his brothers.
Aurora was already there waiting for them. Adam hung back and gave Chainsaw the attention she demanded so as not to intrude on Declan's reunion. It wasn’t long, though, before Ronan beckoned Adam over with a tilt of his head.
Aurora looked around at them. “Alright,” She said. “I was thinking about Opal, and how long she’s been here. Do you all remember the story of how the Greywarens began?”
Declan answered first. “More or less. It’s been a long time since I-- since we’ve heard it.” He looked at Ronan.
Ronan plucked his leather bands with his teeth. “Yeah.”
Matthew screwed his face up thoughtfully. “I can’t remember if I’ve heard it.”
“And Adam hasn’t heard it,” Aurora said. “I can summarize--”
“No!” Matthew protested. “I wanna hear the whole story.”
“Well.” Aurora looked around at each of them, her gaze stopping on Adam.
“I’d like to hear it too,” he told her.
“I suppose we’re in no rush,” Aurora conceded. She sat on one of the benches that had appeared in the clearing since the last time Adam had been there and clasped her hands around one knee, a faraway look in her eyes as she summoned the story from her memory.
“Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, there lived a man called Brandubh Lynch. He married a wise and kind lady, Grainne, and brought her home to his farm. For several years they lived happily, and their farm prospered under the care of two knowledgeable stewards.
"Unbeknownst to the Lynches, a thin place opened right next to their house. The sidhe who knew of this doorway between the worlds did not allow themselves to be seen, but they watched through the doorway so they might learn of mortal affairs.
"In particular, a noblewoman of the sidhe, Niamh, spent much time watching through the doorway. And she became jealous when she saw how the crops flourished and the livestock fattened, for the Lynch farm was better managed than anything in the realm of Tír na nÓg.
"So Niamh wished to bring a human into Tír na nÓg to manage her affairs, and devised a plan to do so. One day while Grainne was tending the sheep alone, she approached her in the guise of a beggar girl. ‘Please, great lady,’ she said, ‘I have been walking all day and I’m so hungry. Do you have a crust of bread to spare?’
"Grainne was flattered, for while their farm prospered, she was no great lady. So she brought Niamh home with her, and shared bread and stew and wine. But Niamh contrived to slip a sleeping powder into Grainne’s wine; and once it had taken effect, she carried her away into Tír na nÓg.
"When Brandubh returned home from his own work and saw the remnants of the meal Grainne and Niamh had shared, he knew something was amiss. He asked his closest neighbors, and one of them had seen, from afar off, someone approach Grainne in the sheep pasture, but they knew nothing else. So he went to consult the local wise woman, Gobnait; for not only was she a skilled healer, she was said to be a soothsayer.
"When Gobnait heard what Brandubh had found and what his neighbor had seen, she surmised that the sidhe must be behind Grainne’s disappearance. ‘There is strong magic here,” she told Brandubh, ‘so it seems clear to me that there must be a thin place; but though I have been searching many years, I have not found it. But now I think that it must be on your farm.’
"So Gobnait returned with Brandubh, and with her craft she was able to find the thin place. Brandubh wished to immediately enter and search for his wife, but Gobnait cautioned him that without a plan, he would only become ensnared in Tír na nÓg himself.
"‘You should know that the sidhe will not let your wife go unless you offer them something in return,’ Gobnait said. ‘So you should think on what you have to offer; and meanwhile I must return to my house and prepare such gifts as might bring us safe passage through Tír na nÓg. I will return tomorrow.’
"Though Brandubh thought through the night, he could think of nothing to offer the sidhe except his own self; and this would not suffice, for then he and Grainne would still be separated. Furthermore, he knew she would never agree.
"So Brandubh continued to think on this problem as they traveled through the thin place. They had walked only a few steps into Tír na nÓg when they were accosted by a Glaistig, who looked like a young human girl save for her goatish legs. ‘You haven’t permission to be here,’ she said.
"‘We have met none of your race in the mortal realm, and so we could not ask permission,’ Gobnait replied. ‘But we ask it of you now.’ She bowed, and Brandubh hastened to do the same.
"‘I am only the guardian of this gate,’ the Glaistig said. ‘But the trees will carry your message to the palace. What is it you seek in our realm?’
"‘I seek my wife, who was carried away by one of your people.’
"‘They do not accept me as one of their people,’ the Glaistig snarled with sudden vehemence. ‘But the trees have heard your message, and someone should come here shortly.’
"‘What do you mean,’ Gobnait asked, ‘that they do not accept you? Surely you are sidhe.’
"‘I am exiled here and guard this gate as penance,’ the Glaistig replied shortly. ‘I will not speak more of it.’
"Brandubh considered. ‘If you guard the gate,’ he asked, ‘why does it seem to have been so easy for one of the sidhe to pass through and steal my wife?’
"‘I can prevent mortals from entering Tír na nÓg,’ the Glaistig said, ‘but my exile robs me of any power over the sidhe. And no sidhe would of their own will live here, apart from the realm. So it would need a mortal guardian to prevent sidhe from visiting the mortal realm whenever they wish.’
"Just then, they saw a tall and beautiful fairy woman walking through the woods towards them. ‘Mortals,’ she called, ‘have you dared to enter here with no offering?’
"‘We have not,’ Gobnait replied. ‘We have brought fresh bread and cream.’ She produced these items and offered them to the woman.
"Niamh - for it was she who came to greet them - accepted the foodstuffs. ‘So,’ she said, ‘you complain that I have taken your wife. But I doubt much that you could bargain anything in return that exceeds the benefits your wife brings to our realm.’
"‘It seems to me,’ said Brandubh, for he had been thinking on the Glaistig’s words, ‘that you need a mortal guardian for this doorway. I would offer myself for this task.’
"Niamh grimaced. ‘You perceive correctly.’ For though she and some others of the sidhe enjoyed using the doorway freely, their king was concerned that their thievery of crops and livestock would turn the mortals in that place against the sidhe. ‘But mortal lives are short,’ Niamh continued. ‘The length of your guardianship would be as nothing to us.’
"‘I and my descendents then,’ Brandubh declared. ‘For as long as you deem fair.’
"‘That is unwise,’ Gobnait hissed. ‘She will not make a fair agreement with you.’
"‘True,’ Niamh agreed, ‘But you would not get the best of this deal in any case. This is what I will offer: if you agree that you and your descendents guard the doorway for 1000 years, your wife may return home with you.’
"‘Let it be so,’ Brandubh replied.
"Niamh vanished, but she soon returned with Grainne, who was overjoyed to see her husband. Niamh brought also two silver branches with leaves of gold. She gave one to Brandubh and the other to the Glaistig.
"‘These branches are tokens of safe passage to the realm you guard, which you may bestow as you see fit,’ Niamh said. ‘And also I will spell the doorway so that it is not visible except to any to whom you choose to make it known.’ There grew up on either side of the gate a yew tree, and the branches met overhead. But one could not see these trees unless they had the sight and knew to look for them.
"Brandubh and Grainne, with counsel from Gobnait, decided it would be safest if they told no one of the doorway except the descendents to whom the duty of Greywaren passed. And also they hid the branch away, safe from prying eyes and grasping hands. And ever since, there has been a Greywaren in every generation of Lynches who keeps this doorway secret and safe.”
There was silence after Aurora’s story ended. It broke when Matthew asked, wonderingly, “So Opal’s a thousand years old?”
“That is the question,” Aurora said. “I don’t know how long ago ‘hundreds and hundreds of years’ was.”
“Twelve hundred,” Ronan supplied. Everyone looked at him. “At least. We have copies of stuff written by Brandubh’s grandson. Had to be written between like, 600ish and 800ish.”
“Based on what?” Declan asked.
“Language stuff.”
“Thank you for that detailed explanation,” Declan said dryly. “So why are we upholding an agreement that’s been null for hundreds of years?”
“Because we just now figured it out,” Aurora said, at the same time that Adam said, “Regardless, we can use it as leverage to renegotiate.”
“What Parrish said,” Ronan agreed.
“It’s a good suggestion,” Declan said, “We’ll put a pin in it. Mum, I guess you haven’t met a Niamh here?”
“No. And I was looking for her, before your father died. We’ll have to ask my counterpart.”
“Surely Opal would know,” Matthew chimed in.
Ronan was muttering under his breath; to Cabeswater or himself or both. “Hell,” He said, “I’m going to go talk to her whether she wants to or not. Everyone go home, this’ll probably take a while.”
There were various protests, but in the end everyone did as Ronan asked. It did take a while, and Ronan returned looking tired and pissed, but not-Aurora had awoken and so he passed off his mood as related to "bookshop stuff".
It was not until bedtime that they had a chance to talk about it. Matthew had convinced not-Aurora to play Mario kart with him; the result of a whispered conversation with Declan while doing the dishes, Adam deduced. So he wasn't surprised when Declan quietly got up and followed them to Ronan's room.
Ronan scowled at him. "Three's company."
"I agree." Declan shut the door and leaned against it. "What did Opal say?"
Ronan scowled again, this time accompanied by a sigh. "She doesn't think the doorway bargain will help her. Also she seems to know Niamh, but she's terrified of her and refused to tell me until after we get Mum back."
"Oh," Adam said.
"Wait," Declan said.
Ronan looked between them. "Shit," He observed, "I'm thick."
"You’re under a lot of stress," Declan said diplomatically. Ronan rolled his eyes. "Also sounds like she may not know for sure."
“‘Kay. Sounds like you’re helping me in the bookshop tomorrow.” Ronan and Declan exchanged a series of looks indecipherable to Adam.
“I’ll help look for info on Niamh,” Declan agreed after the visual conversation ended. “Night.”
Adam went to school as if it were a normal day before retrieving Seondeok and Henry from the airport. Ronan had sent him a terse text to come in through the bookshop instead of the house. They entered to find Ronan and Noah sprawled on the floor next to a half-empty pizza box and Declan seated at the checkout desk examining something written on a notepad.
“I see we’ve entered the situation room,” Seondeok observed. “Do brief me.”
Noah scrambled to his feet. “I’m out,” He said, nodding politely to Seondeok. “Just stayed to see Henry. Hey, Henry.”
“Hey,” Henry responded. “Might we expect to see you at your dining establishment later this evening?”
“Yep.”
Noah left. They filled Seondeok in on the plan, and she immediately began poking holes in it.
“Bookshop or fairy mound?”
They all contemplated this basic decision that hadn’t occurred to them.
“Fairy mound?” Declan suggested tentatively. “It might have to be, depending on how strict the bargain was.”
“We can ask Mum.”
“Do,” Seondeok said. “Though I was asking because I think we’ll need to deactivate the doorway protections if you do it here. Some of them don’t play nice with other magical objects.”
Declan sucked in a breath. “Would you be able to reactivate them?”
“Adam would.” Seondeok sounded confident, but Adam had barely noticed the protections in all the times he’d traveled through the door. He went to it now, closing his eyes and placing one hand on each yew tree.
The artifacts were not in the trees, but on the bookshelves on either side. Hidden within or behind the books were three pairs of artifacts in all: one to hide, one to repel, one to defend. Adam laid them in a row on a shelf and examined them. They were undeniably powerful, but otherwise surprisingly straightforward.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “I can do these.”
“Then I’d rather bring Mum here, if we can,” Ronan decided. Declan nodded his agreement.
“Alright,” Seondeok acknowledged. “Next question. It sounds like the sidhe will be in Tír na nÓg when she regains her memory. What’s to stop her staying there and refusing to negotiate with you?”
“It’s a bad idea,” Declan agreed wearily, “But it’s what the branches require.”
“No,” Ronan interjected. Declan frowned at him. “No, because there’s time to exchange the branches. If we can finish the bargain-- I’ll ask Mum how long it is.” He stood to leave.
“I would like to visit her as well,” Seondeok said, following him.
Ronan looked like he wanted to protest, but all he said was, “Yeah, I guess. Parrish--?” Adam shook his head, because he’d agreed to help Declan with the wording of the bargain. Ronan sighed and led Seondeok through the doorway.
Ronan grumbled about Seondeok’s eleventh-hour input after she and Henry had left, but he couldn’t deny they’d resolved the issues she brought up: they could meet in the bookshop, and Aurora thought they had around five minutes before the branches’ curse kicked in.
When Declan and Adam showed him the new agreement they’d written, Ronan gave it a perfunctory read, grunted at it, and dropped it back onto the coffee table.
“Eloquent,” Declan remarked.
“I’m not the one you have to convince. The gremlins were nowhere in sight, so we’ll have to find out in the morning.”
They’d already collected Opal’s and Mochta’s input, but Ronan, Adam had noticed, was becoming increasingly anxious as Samhain approached. He linked his arm with Ronan’s and leaned into him. “They’re already convinced,” He reminded Ronan, “That’s just a final check.”
Adam felt the motion of Ronan’s head shaking. “It’s too perfect,” He muttered. “We’re missing something that’s gonna go to shit tomorrow.”
“I think we’ll be fine--” Declan began.
“ You think we’ll be fine,” Ronan said incredulously.
“Until the sidhe gets her memory back,” Declan finished. “ Then it’s likely to go to shit. But we need to know what kind of shit we’re in before we can start mucking it out.”
Ronan sighed and dropped his head on Adam’s shoulder.
“You’ll feel better about it in the morning.” Adam stood and dragged Ronan to his feet with him.
In the morning, meeting with Opal and Mochta went as smoothly as Adam had expected. Then it was the calm before the storm. They all milled about the house and gardens more or less aimlessly while they awaited dusk.
“I know they’re up to something,” not-Aurora confided in Adam. “Is it a surprise? I am fairly confident today isn’t my birthday.” Adam was relieved when she believed his vague reassurances.
Finally, Seondeok and Henry arrived, with Noah in tow (“it’s so I’m not the only one here uninvolved with the magic,” Henry had explained, though Adam had never known Henry to be entirely uninvolved when there were magic goings-on). Everyone gathered in the bookshop.
They’d agreed to keep the golden branch from not-Aurora until the last minute, since it seemed the thing most likely to jolt her memory prematurely. Declan checked his watch repeatedly as dusk drew closer. He finally stepped over to where not-Aurora sat in an armchair pulled in from one of the side rooms and wordlessly handed her the branch.
“Oh,” She said, turning it over in her hands. “One of your father’s strange artifacts. It’s a pretty one.”
Adam breathed a sigh of relief, and felt Ronan do the same next to him.
Aurora, Mochta, and Opal stepped through the doorway. Opal immediately came over to wrap both her arms around one of Adam’s. Chainsaw glided in after them and landed gently on the checkout desk, trying for stealth, though she was too large to go unnoticed.
“Goodness me,” not-Aurora exclaimed. At first Adam thought she was startled by Chainsaw; then he realized she was looking at the others. “Where did you all come from?”
Matthew came next to her chair and squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll explain in a bit,” He promised.
“Are we ready?” Declan asked brusquely. He looked between Aurora and Mochta, Opal and Ronan.
All except Opal nodded. Mochta stepped toward Ronan and held out a hand. As Ronan clasped the hand, Mochta looked towards Opal and Adam. “You too,” he told Opal.
She stepped forward, still clinging to Adam’s hand, and placed her free hand over theirs. “You gotta let go of Adam, runt,” Ronan said. She glowered at him, but dropped Adam’s hand. Aurora added her hand on top of Opal’s.
“You go first,” Mochta instructed Ronan. They’d been over this before, but Mochta seemed almost as nervous as Ronan now. “Tell me what you’re offering and why you have power to make the bargain, then I tell you my side.” He looked intensely at their joined hands. “Then, um, something magic happens? I’m not sure what it is, but that’s all we need to do to finish the bargain.” He looked at Opal, who rolled her eyes and gave him an exaggerated nod.
“Okay,” Ronan said. “As the Greywaren who guards this doorway between worlds, I give you permission to live in the mortal world for as long as you please, and to travel freely between the worlds.” He brought his free arm up to chew on his leather bands. “This permission stands so long as you do nothing to harm or deceive humans.”
“As guardian of Cabeswater, I also give you permission to travel between the worlds,” Opal muttered reluctantly.
Mochta’s eyes darted towards not-Aurora, who now seemed to be paying them no attention. Nonetheless, he kept his voice quiet as he said, “As the son of the sidhe in this room and of Niall Lynch, who was one of the parties to the bargain she made eighteen human years ago, I renounce all the terms of that bargain, and in particular the term that removed her memory of Tír na nÓg.”
“As the other party to that bargain,” Aurora finished, “I also renounce all terms and agree to the restoration of her memory.”
From the perspective of those watching, nothing happened. Almost nothing. Adam saw Ronan give a nearly imperceptible startle; whether it was some physical sensation of the magic or the emotional shock of being suddenly so close to their final goal, Adam didn’t know.
“Ohhhh. Oh. ” They all turned to look at not-Aurora. She gave them a feline smile. “Someone’s finally been clever.”
Opal darted back to Adam and hissed something unintelligible to him.
“We’ve been collectively clever,” Declan said shortly. “You certainly made it difficult. Do you remember everything?”
“From before Niall died, yes.” Ronan winced as she continued. “After, it’s hazy. Memory loss has that effect, magical or no. But I remember you took care of me as best you could, so I suppose I’ll let you live.” She smirked as if this was supposed to be a joke, though it didn’t sound entirely like one.
Declan gave a half-shrug. “What else would we have done?”
The sidhe tittered. “I’m sure that’s rhetorical, dear. You know what people can be like. Though I don’t think you devised a way out of this bargain solely out of filial devotion.” Her eyes shifted to Aurora. “Well, not towards me, anyway.”
“They figured out the arrangement, of course,” Aurora. “Ours and the original.”
“Ah, I see. That’s why you needed me.” Her eyes roamed the room. “Or no, you weren't sure about that, were you? Let me introduce myself, then. My name’s Niamh. I’m sure you recognize it from the family lore.”
“Fucking convenient for us then.” Ronan stood from where he’d been leaning against both a bookcase and Adam. “It’s past time to renegotiate the doorway agreement.”
Niamh sighed. “And your family couldn’t let their memory of that fade away with all the other forgotten human history. No, you have to be different from other mortals. We won’t get to enjoy all the fun we could’ve had with an unguarded doorway.”
She strode over to the doorway and examined the trees and surrounding bookshelves keenly. “On the topic of guarding,” She drawled, turning back to the room, “The protection on this side is woeful. Your trees are mostly dead. I see you’ve salvaged them--” Here she paused to run her hand dramatically along a shelf -- “But we all know that’s not the same. And the wards you’ve added are hardly even noticeable.”
“They’re deactivated,” Seondeok interjected, entering from the side room where she, Henry, and Noah had been observing the proceedings.
Niamh inspected the shelves again. “So they are,” she conceded. “And I suppose you’ll be expecting sidhe magic to reactivate them for you?”
“No,” Adam said shortly. “I’ll do it.”
Niamh looked him up and down, scrutinizing. “I suppose you could, druid boy,” She said grudgingly. Her gaze shifted to pierce each Lynch in turn. “Where did you find your seer? Someday I’ll come to toy with your family and you won’t have a magician here to help.”
“Cabeswater found him.” Opal had avoided Niamh’s stare by shifting herself behind Adam, but apparently this information was important enough for her peek out again. Chainsaw screeched agreement, then huddled down as small as possible.
“I see ,” Niamh said. “In that case, a condition for our negotiation: restore Cabeswater to this realm.”
Declan made a choking sound.
“Fucking excuse you?” Ronan snarled.
“I don’t know,” Adam murmured, but he stopped there. He didn’t know, but he could feel the shape of it; he sensed that Cabeswater wanted to exist in both worlds.
Niamh raised her eyebrows at them. “And why do you think Cabeswater’s forged a connection with a druid after all this time?”
“Because,” Ronan began, “He’s--”
“Oh, stop,” Niamh interrupted. “You’re clearly not an objective party, and I’ve already told you the reason.”
“You’re demanding this as a condition before you even come to the bargaining table?” Declan asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I think it’s only fair if we choose one condition of the new agreement that you have to accept.”
“Fair?” Niamh sneered. “You think I care about fair. ”
“I think you care,” Aurora said sharply, “About forging a new compact. But if you don’t, I know there are others in Tír na nÓg who do.”
Niamh subjected each person to a long moment of scrutiny before she answered. “Very well. I’ll be back tomorrow at the same time. I expect to see a forest beyond that door.”
“ Stop,” Seondeok ordered. Adam had rarely seen her so furious. Niamh either did not recognize this or refused to acknowledge it. She simply stood and waited. “You know how much magic that would take.” Seondeok declared, sharp and resolute. “You know what it would mean for a human to attempt it in one day.”
“Cabeswater summoned him,” Niamh said. “Cabeswater can keep him alive, if it so wills.” She strode through the doorway before anyone could react.
While Aurora and Niall and the leannán sí had kept their bargain secret from other humans, it was not possible to hide from the aes sidhe that Aurora was not one of their own, and that the leannán sí was no longer in their realm but for two days a year. And since the Matthew whom Aurora raised in Tír na nÓg was aes sidhe, he had discovered early on that Aurora was human, and worked out where his fairy mother was.
Now, fairies are known to be cruel more than kind, and capricious more than compassionate. But because fairy-Matthew had been fostered by a human, and because that human was Aurora Lynch, as kind and compassionate a person as you could find, fairy-Matthew had himself grown to be more kind and compassionate than all the other aes sidhe. So he was sorrowed by his foster mother’s bereavement, and searched for a way she could visit her sons.
Aurora had never told fairy-Matthew of the doorway into the bookshop, for it was a closely guarded secret of the Greywarens, Lynches for countless generations. But he knew that she had not gone through the fairy-mound on the night she learnt of Niall’s murder. So fairy-Matthew began frequenting the forest where Aurora had disappeared that night, thinking that one day her sons might come back and travel through whatever doorway she had used.