“Now that you are in a position to recharge yourself, Druid, I would like my energy returned to me.”
Well, hello to you too, Morrigan. Yeesh.
“Thank you very much for the use of it,” I told her diplomatically, and offered her my left hand. “Please take it back.”
She grasped my hand, and when she was finished draining what was hers, my arm dropped to my side like a dead fish. I couldn’t move again.
“You used way too much Cold Fire,” the Morrigan said. “You should plan on being immobile for a couple of days. I hope you put on some of that lotion the mortals are so infatuated with. Can’t have you dying of skin cancer.”
The Morrigan laughed mockingly and then squawked harshly as she changed into a crow and flew away. And she wondered why she didn’t have any friends.
Epilogue
The Chiricahua Mountains in southeastern Arizona have a sere beauty to them. One of the things I enjoy about the desert is the hardiness of the plants and animals that live there. Rains are unpredictable and the Arizona sun can be extraordinarily harsh, yet life thrives in the Chiricahuas, albeit without the lush display you find in wetter climes.
The Chiricahuas are unusual in that there are several “sky islands”—old volcanic ranges that jut nine thousand feet above the desert grasslands—featuring diverse ecosystems.
Oberon and I hunted mule deer and javelina there, and we also terrorized a couple of coatimundis just to hear them chitter at us. We didn’t find any bighorn sheep but refused to let that small disappointment mar an idyllic outing.
"This place is great, Atticus," he said as we rested by a canyon stream, enjoying the gurgle of the water as it tumbled over rocks and eddied around the stalks of cattails. "How long can we stay here?"
I wished I could tell him we could stay until he tired of it. This was what I’d fought and lived for—a world without Aenghus Óg in it. There wasn’t a place in Tír na nÓg finer than that spot by the creek, and I couldn’t remember a time in recent centuries when I’d felt more at peace than there with my friend at that particular moment. It reminded me that Oberon had magic of his own: He could focus my attention on how perfectly sublime life can be at times. Such moments are ephemeral, and without his guidance I might have missed many of them, working so hard to get somewhere that I would fail to recognize when I had arrived.
Just another couple of days, I said. Then I have to get back to the shop and let Perry take his vacation. There was also the matter of the dead land around Tony Cabin to heal, and I needed to figure out how to grow back a convincing right ear. All I’d been able to do so far was grow a disfigured lump of cartilage, and it had yet to earn me a single admiring glance. I might have to resort to plastic surgery.
"Aw. Too bad. I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, then."
I have a surprise for you to enjoy when we get back home.
"Did you get me that movie about Genghis Khan?"
It’s in the Netflix queue, but that’s not the surprise. You don’t need to worry, it’ll be something good. I just don’t want you to feel depressed about going home.
"Oh, I won’t. But it would be cool to have a stream like this in the backyard. Can you make one?"
Umm … no.
"I figured. Can’t blame a hound for trying."
Oberon was indeed surprised when we got back home to Tempe. Hal had made the arrangements for me, and Oberon perked up as soon as we were dropped off by the shuttle from the car rental company.
"Hey, smells like someone’s in my territory," he said.
Nobody could be here without my permission, you know that.
"Flidais did it."
That isn’t Flidais you smell, believe me.
I opened the front door, and Oberon immediately ran to the kitchen window that gazed upon the backyard. He barked joyously when he saw what was waiting for him there.
"French poodles! All black and curly with poofy little tails!"
And every one of them in heat.
"Oh, WOW! Thanks, Atticus! I can’t wait to sniff their asses!" He bounded over to the door and pawed at it because the doggie door was closed to prevent the poodles from entering.
You earned it, buddy. Hold on, get down off the door so I can open it for you, and be careful, don’t hurt any of them.
I opened the door, expecting him to bolt through it and dive into his own personal canine harem, but instead he took one step and stopped, looking up at me with a mournful expression, his ears drooping and a tiny whine escaping his snout.
"Only five?"