Chapter One - Them

Aodhan was daydreaming.

The dream was a vivid one, starring himself and the plump, red-cheeked girl that lived down the hill. Her name was Mirna, but besides her name and how she looked bouncing down the forest paths, skirts flying, Aodhan didn't know much else, so as one can imagine, there was little conversation in this dream.

There was a note of bitterness in the curve of Aodhan's lips. What he was actually doing was shoveling pig shit. The muck had climbed almost to his knees, despite his efforts to avoid dirtying himself. When he told his uncle he wanted to work, this wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

But, a job was a job. And maybe, if he made enough money, he would gather the courage to ask Mirna on a date.

Thank god all the pigs that this pen used to hold had been slaughtered or sold, or else this job would be unbearable. His uncle wanted to turn the space into a new stable for his horses and thus, with the mention of wanting to make money, Aodhan had accidentally signed up to do his uncle's dirty work - quite literally. He had been at it for half a day now, and sweat dripped from his hairline into his eyes, but he didn't dare wipe it. The scent of sun-warmed pig shit on the ground was already enough to make one faint, having it on his face would probably actually kill him.

The sun was beginning to set, lending a fiery glow to the green hills and fields, but with its descent came a penetrating cold that instantly froze his sweat to his skin. With a shiver, he decided to come back to his task tomorrow, and stepped out of the pen, boots squelching on the grass. However, as he made to close the gate behind him, he felt something snag his ankle and he went down, landing on his *** in a pile of shit.

Through the haze of his embarrassment and anger, Aodhan heard the smallest of snickers and whipped around, looking for whoever dared to trip him, but the yard was empty, not a soul in sight. Aodhan frowned and stood, hurrying to put away his shovel and get back home. He shivered again, but this time, not from the cold.

The path back home was heavily shrouded by trees on either side, almost invisible unless you knew it was there. Aodhan hurried along it like the Devil was at his heels, some sixth sense telling him to get inside, quickly.

Suddenly, he came to a halt, ears perked, heart bouncing around like a rabid dog. Were those footsteps? Leaves crunched abruptly to Aodhan's left and he jumped, now running so fast he was almost flying up the path, black braided hair thumping against his spine like a tail. But Aodhan couldn't keep up such a pace forever, and soon the stitch in his side forced him to slow. As he did, panting heavily, two ice cold fingers brushed up the length of his spine, from his lower back to the center of his shoulder blades.

Aodhan yelped like he had been stung and tripped for the second time that night, landing on his hands and knees. He groaned, feeling the skin on the heels of his hands and under his pants tear like paper. The fingers disappeared abruptly, and the night around him was still once more. Aodhan caught his breath, looking around, but not even a shadow was out of place. The rest of the way home was uninterrupted, but Aodhan still made haste, thoroughly unnerved.

When he showed up at home, covered in pig shit and blood, cheeks flushed like a maiden who had been teased mercilessly, hair coming out of his braid, his mother assumed the worst.

"Aodhan," she gasped, blue eyes wide with the shine of tears, "what brute of a man got the better of my son?" Abruptly, she bared her teeth, "I'll rip him into pieces so small he'll be ant food!"

Aodhan sighed and led his mother to the kitchen table, setting her into a chair. "I just tripped on my way here, that's all. No need to panic." Aodhan's mother lived in eternal fear that her son, pretty as he was, would be taken advantage of by a man. Aodhan thought this was an exceptionally silly thing to fear - not to mention embarrassing - and even less likely to occur when he was smothered in shit. After carefully reassuring his mother repeatedly that his innocence was still intact, he hauled himself back on his stinging legs to his room while his mother boiled water for him to bathe. Once the tub was full, he flung his shit-stained clothes to a far corner and breathed a sigh of relief without that smell following him any longer. He sank into the water blissfully.

Nearly an hour later, freshly scrubbed, he dressed and wandered back out, lured by the smell of roasting meat. His sister, Betha, was setting out the plates, dark hair in the same shade as his rested in a neat plait down her back, only hers was twice as long and shinier, like it had been infused with moonlight. She smiled, watching Aodhan float toward the table like he was in a trance, lured by that tantalizing scent.

"I heard you came home all bloody," she said gently, a small wrinkle appearing between her well-sculpted brows, "what happened? Ma thinks you've been accosted again."

Aodhan rolled his eyes. "It's nothing. It was dark and I tripped."

However, with Betha, this excuse fell disappointingly flat, falling between them like a sack of bricks. She frowned and used a finger to tilt Aodhan's chin toward herself, staring deeply into his eyes. "You and I both know you're too familiar with these forest paths to forget the location of even a single pebble." She paused, glancing toward their mother, who was busy stoking the fire in the other room. She lowered her voice. "It wasn't - it wasn't Them -"

"No," Aodhan blurted, startlingly loud. Their mother looked over.

"What are you two fighting about now? I don't care how old you are, I'll still take you over my knee."

"It's nothing, ma," Aodhan assured, waiting until she went back to her task before speaking again. "It wasn't Them." His voice was soft, but he didn't look at his sister, too afraid she would see the old fear in his eyes.

Unsatisfied, Betha let the topic drop, but her mouth was tightly pursed for the rest of the meal. Aodhan couldn't tell her what had happened. She would take it too seriously and force them to move again. He avoided her eyes for the rest of the evening and snuck off to bed when she wasn't looking.

His room was dark and slightly chilled. The fire he had started when he got back to warm the room while he bathed had sputtered out long ago, leaving the brusque autumn air to seep in through the cracks around the window like ghostly fingers.

Thinking about cold fingers only made him remember what happened earlier and he shivered, hurrying to rekindle the flame. Cold blue moonlight spilled in the window, the glow more than enough to see by. Just as he got a spark to catch, there was a curious sound that made Aodhan pause and perk his ears, going still. He remained that way for several minutes, nerves so tightly strung he could loose arrows from them. When nothing else was heard, he relaxed slightly and slipped into bed, releasing his hair from its restraints.

The house settled into comfortable silence and Aodhan began to drift off, surrounded by a comfortable heat.

An icy finger slid across his cheek. With a start, Aodhan was immediately wide awake, springing up and flinging the covers away like they were a pile of snakes, chest heaving with quick breaths. "Who's there?" he gasped, voice like marsh reeds rubbing together.

His fists clenched, veins standing out like blue rivers against the back of his hands. Suddenly remembering something, he rushed to the desk at his bedside and tugged open the drawers in succession, one after another, sending items flying out. When he couldn't immediately find what he was looking for, he cursed, pushing errant clumps of hair out of his eyes. He searched the whole room over frantically. Where could he have put it?

He froze suddenly, eyes going to twice their original size. Laying on his pillow, innocent as could be, was the green charm he had been so desperately searching for. It definitely hadn't been there before. Aodhan trembled. Obviously, the charm was useless against whatever had put it there, and so Aodhan was defenseless.

The charm, made of delicate green glass, carefully sculpted into the shape of a dragon, was something he had picked up from a foreign merchant last winter. He had been lured by the merchant's assurances that the charm would protect him from evil entities. The man spoke English with a heavy accent, his sharply angled, ink-black eyes full of a sincerity that was strangely calming. Of course, he knew he was probably being swindled. Aodhan wasn't completely blind. But at the time, he had been at his wits end with terror, and so any shred of hope, any chance at finally freeing himself from torment was a rope tossed to the bottom of a well. And, indeed, once he bought the charm, it seemed as if his tormentors had backed off.

But now, either the charm had lost its power, or it had never worked in the first place, and Aodhan didn't know which was worse. He backed himself into the corner by the window, eyes open so wide they were about to fall out of his head. The room was still and silent, filled only with the shaky breaths Aodhan failed to suppress. After a while, the tension in Aodhan's shoulders faded and he stepped cautiously out of the corner. Had it been some sort of lucid dream? He glanced at the bed. The charm was still there, the dark green of the glass contrasting nicely against the white of his pillow. Perhaps, in his sleep, he was the one who moved it?

Somewhat comforted by this thought, Aodhan released the stale breath held in his chest for too long and sat at the edge of the bed, running a slender finger over the graceful dragon shape. Unlike the fierce, four-legged, bulky beast often depicted in local folktales, this dragon was slender, more snakelike. It was an Eastern dragon, seeming to radiate beauty and prosperity, so very unlike the aggressive, blood lusting dragons his ancestors had fought. Even if the charm had lost its power, it was still quite lovely. And so, compelled, he slipped the soft leather cord over his head and the charm settled just below his collarbones.

He couldn't remember just when he had stopped wearing it so religiously. At some point, after months of peace, finally freed from Them, he had decided they were gone for good and stopped needing it. Maybe it needed to be worn to work properly?

Suddenly a wave of exhaustion bled over Aodhan and he resettled himself in the bedsheets, falling asleep within seconds. As such, he didn't see a shadowy figure step out into the moonlight coming from the window. The figure paused by the bedside, seeming to stare at the sweetly sleeping young man for a long moment. The burning gaze flitted to the open collar of the youth's bedclothes, at the pale, delicate collarbones and the green pendant resting against the warm, flawless skin. Abruptly, the figure turned and dissolved into wisps of smoke, leaving behind only the scent of damp forest in its wake.

Chapter Two - The Lichway

The next morning, Aodhan woke to the sensation of being strangled. Spluttering for a moment, he pulled at whatever was on him and with a snap, the dragon pendant went bouncing across the blankets. Aodhan frowned, holding the broken piece of leather in his fist. The charm must have gotten tangled around him while he slept. With a sigh, Aodhan set the pendant and broken string on the bedside table, vowing to fix it later. For the moment, he had the rest of a pig sty waiting on him. He had already slept too late; the sun had reached its zenith an hour ago.

He rushed to get ready and left the house with only a biscuit for breakfast. His mother, hanging his washed clothes from last night up to dry in the yard, called after him, "What are you in a hurry for, child? Your uncle isn't home. He won't know you're late, and if he has anything to say about it, I'll take care of him."

Aodhan didn't stop, only calling out a vague goodbye before dashing down the forest path. His rush to leave had less to do with his obligations and more to do with a particularly bewitching redhead that would be trotting through the town gleefully to deliver cakes to some of the older residents on behalf of her mother any minute now. Aodhan reached the pitted road unhindered and ducked into the bushes surrounding his uncle's property. From there, he had a clear view of the main street, which was crowded with merchants, women shopping for produce, and men looking to sell livestock or buy something for their sweethearts.

As he squatted there, gaze intently searching for a hint of red, he suddenly smelled dark earth after rain and frowned, fleetingly wondering why it smelled like rain when the night had been dry, but this thought was swept from his head immediately. Mirna had appeared. Aodhan craned his neck above the bushes to get a better look and sighed dreamily.

Lovely as always, the girl's carrot-colored hair was bound tightly in a plentiful braid, smiling cheeks slightly red as she skipped from house to house. Today her dress was light blue, her shawl the purest white. She looked to Aodhan to be as gorgeous as the mortal woman Étaín who had been married to Midir of the Tuatha de Dannan.

Aodhan was leaning over the bushes, hanging onto a tree for balance, when the dirt-after-rain smell intensified to an almost dizzying degree, making Aodhan's head swim with the strangely addictive scent. Fuzzy-headed, Aodhan didn't hear the leaves crunching behind him before an enormous force suddenly kicked his rear end, sending the boy tumbling out of the bushes and down a small hill. Curled into a ball to protect his head, Aodhan rolled right into the street and came to a stop against a farmer's cart piled high with hay and bags of chicken feed. Groaning, Aodhan slowly uncurled and checked himself over for injuries.

He was in the middle of rolling up his pantleg to check the aching of his calf when a shadow fell over him, blocking out the sun. Dazed, he looked up only to feel his cheeks start to burn. Mirna stood over him with a concerned frown. Aodhan realized that the beautiful girl he admired had just watched him roll inelegantly down a hill like some kind of demonic snowball and cursed in his head. But, rather than laugh at him outright, she lowered herself gracefully to her knees beside him.

Her soft-looking mouth moved and Aodhan, entranced, didn't hear a word she said. She had to repeat herself twice before he shook himself out of his trance.

"Are you alright?" Her bright blue eyes glittered, a slight wrinkle between her brows.

Aodhan nodded dumbly and scooted back unconsciously, feeling that the aura of light and warmth around this girl was too bright for him to sully it. Still frowning, Mirna looked at Aodhan's leg, which was covered in fresh blood - damn his delicate flesh, tearing so easily - and rummaged around in the basket at her side before pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to him. Aodhan was careful not to touch her fingers as he accepted it, the flush spreading to his ears and down his neck.

Wiping away the blood, Aodhan got a clear look at the injury and grimaced. He must have hit a rock on the way down, but the wound was shaped funny. It looked like someone had stamped a spiral into the soft flesh on the back of his knee. Aodhan clearly remembered being curled up as he rolled down - so how did he manage to get an injury in such a place? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mirna turn her head away the red on her cheeks deepening, and he mentally cursed. Of course, the wound was too hideous for a lady to see - the amount of blood alone was probably making her dizzy, the sight of his torn skin could only make her sick. Aodhan hurriedly pulled down his pantleg and stood up, stuffing the blood-soaked handkerchief into his sleeve. He would wash it, but the delicate white cloth was ruined, and he couldn't imagine having the gall to return it in such a state.

"Thank you," Aodhan whispered, backing up a few steps. Mirna stood gracefully and nodded with a sweet smile.

"Take more care when you're going down hills. It's easy to lose your footing."

A blush of shame crept up Aodhan's neck. The maiden was chastising him, jokingly of course, but he still felt like an idiot. Nodding, he turned to leave before he began to cry tears of blood, but a small hand landed on his arm.

"Please wait," she said, a note of urgency in her voice that made Aodhan pause. "Aren't you the boy who - the one who crossed the -" she paused, biting her pink lips. Dazed, Aodhan watched this scene, mouth suddenly very dry.

A painful sting, starting from the wound behind his knee, suddenly crawled along his flesh, like there were thorns sprouting in his veins. Aodhan groaned and nearly toppled over, the muscles in his leg turning to mush.

Startled, Mirna went forward to steady him, but hesitated before touching his skin, like there was a barrier around him she couldn't cross. Aodhan understood. A proper woman like Mirna wouldn't dare to go around touching random men as she pleased. This thought forced strength into Aodhan, and through sheer will, he stayed standing. The thick, iron scent of his own blood rose up, suffocating him. The wound must have been more severe than he thought.

With this, Aodhan could no longer be polite. He stumbled away without a backward glance and somehow made it back to his uncle's house, collapsing only once he passed through the door. He peeled the blood-soaked trousers off completely, leaving only his shirt and undergarments, gathered up some spare cloth and a bowl of water. He carefully cleaned the wound until the water was dyed completely red and wrapped some bandages around the limb, still puzzling over the sheer oddity of the scar.

Scratching his head, Aodhan decided it was best not to dwell on these things for too long and put his pants back on, thankful that the material was dark enough to hide the ghastly bloodstain. He opened the door to head around towards the pig sty but halted, becoming as stiff as a piece of dead wood. Pacing in front of the stoop before his uncle's house was Mirna. Her head shot up at the noise and they stared at each other for a moment, one party shocked to the point of being mute, the other puzzled about why he had stopped breathing.

"I'm sorry," Mirna said softly. "I'm sure you don't like to be reminded of that time. . ."

Time? What time? Reminded of what now?

Aodhan's mind was completely blank. There had been too many shocks in a row and his thoughts were repeatedly hitting a wall like a ram locked in a dungeon. What had she been saying before he ran away?

Thankfully, Mirna cleared up his confusion with her apology. "Everyone in the village says you weren't the same after you came back. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Aodhan's whole body went cold as he realized what she meant by being the 'one who crossed.' There was only one event she could have been talking about.

Suddenly, despite how pretty and contrite Mirna looked, Aodhan wanted nothing more than to slam the door in her face and hide for the rest of the day. He forced himself to clear his throat. "It's fine."

The girl dug the tip of her boot into the dirt, thinking hard. "Then. . .could you. . ." she trailed off, unable to meet his eyes.

Aodhan found this to be particularly charming and smiled unconsciously. "Could I what?"

She bit her lips, blue eyes suddenly glossy with tears. "I wouldn't ask, except I really don't know what to do. And you're the only person that's - that's crossed the lichway and come back sane so I just hoped-" she stopped, hiccupped, and turned away in shame. "Never mind. It was incredibly rude of me to even ask. I'll take my leave."

Truthfully, the moment she said the word 'lichway' Aodhan's spine had stiffened up so much he was surprised it hadn't cracked, but seeing this pathetic appearance, his manly instincts were aroused, and he hopped down the stoop to catch up with her.

"Wait!" He caught her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. "Tell me what's wrong before running off."

Her lips trembled and abruptly, she sat down on the grass, tears finally spilling over her lower lashes to douse her cheeks. Aodhan kneeled next to her to listen to her story.

As it turned out, Mirna had a necklace she favored. She wouldn't say much about it except that it was very precious, and she wore it every day. However, she had somehow incurred the wrath of a few of the other girls in the village and they stole it from her. She confessed that she didn't know why the other girls were so angry with her, but in his heart Aodhan knew it was probably because Mirna was so much prettier than them that she had unconsciously sparked their jealousy.

Apparently, just destroying the necklace wouldn't have been cruel enough. They had to ensure that there was no hope of it ever being repaired, and so had thrown it into the lichway.

The lichway was a place for the dead to cross between worlds - how could sweet, delicate Mirna dare to go in and get it? Everyone that had ever stepped even a toe into the lichway was forever stuck between worlds, left with no option but to continue into the forest of the sidhe or become ghosts themselves. Everyone, except Aodhan.

No one could really figure out why he was able to escape. Most assumed it was because he had been so young, only twelve, when he stumbled into the lichway. The sidhe had probably thought him too insignificant, and thus allowed him to cross back over.

But Aodhan knew They weren't that merciful. His safe return had come at a price.

Mirna couldn't have known this. She only knew he was the boy that crossed the lichway and hoped he could help her get the necklace back.

As she looked up at him with her eyes rimmed in red, sniffling piteously, Aodhan couldn't outright refuse her. He scratched at his nose idly, trying to figure out how to say "hell no" in a nice way. Every bone in his body was telling him to push this girl away from him, run home without looking back, and hide under the covers until he was old and gray.

He couldn't do it. The word "no" trembled at the tip of his tongue, but no matter how he tried, one look at those tear-stained cheeks and the word stopped in his throat, choking him. What kind of man would he be if he didn't even take a look? Perhaps the situation wasn't as dire as it seemed. After all, most people were too afraid to get within a league of the lichway. It might not have crossed the boundary. With a heavy heart, Aodhan inclined his head, sighing deeply.

Mirna's downtrodden expression immediately brightened like a sunflower glimpsing the dawn. She rushed forward and wrapped him in her arms.

"Thank you so much! I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

Uncomfortable, Aodhan sidled away. She smelled like dandelions and her body was soft - these two things were enough to make Aodhan feel like his entire body was burning, so he hurried to stand up.

"We should go before it gets dark," he said, offering a hand to help her up. Together, they circumvented the village and soon entered a huge, green field that spread over small dips and hills for quite a distance before being cut off by a distant line of dark trees that marked the beginning of the sidhe's territory. It wasn't visible now, but the lichway should be somewhere along the forest's edge, stretching out like a large welcome mat. People said that no matter where you approached the forest from, the lichway would appear in your path, so Aodhan luckily didn't have to rely on his memory to find it. Most of his memories of that time were blurred by fear and, he suspected, some sort of magic. It was why, no matter how much he was questioned, Aodhan couldn't recall exactly what he had seen in that forest. He had only a vague impression of voices and distorted figures that were too horribly misshapen to be human.

Hand in hand to avoid losing their footing, they hurried out into the field, not out of any excitement for their destination, but the sun was quickly lowering in the sky and both knew that once the moon showed her face, it would become nearly impossible to resist the pull of the lichway and they would both be lost forever. Aodhan knew that even if he was lucky enough to escape once, he had no hope of doing it twice.

It wasn't long before the opening of the lichway appeared, bounded by thick, unnatural fog. It didn't look particularly sinister upon first glance. It was two rows of jagged, unevenly spaced, white stones that stretched into the forest. To some, it might not even look very strange, except for the its unexplainable symmetry and the way the white of the stones looked like bones of long-dead beasts sticking out of the ground. The distance between the two rows was no more than half Aodhan's height.

The two slowed as they neared it. Aodhan pulled Mirna to a stop. "I'll go over and look for it. You should stay here. What does it look like?"

Mirna blinked owlishly at him, as if this was a peculiar question. "The pendant is green. It's on a leather cord. It might be hard to spot in the grass. Are you sure I shouldn't come with you?"

Aodhan shook his head. Despite knowing he would feel better with another person alongside him, he couldn't put Mirna in that kind of danger. Mirna frowned, but sat down to wait for him.

A chill breeze rolled over the field, penetrating Aodhan's clothes like thousands of cold fingers, caressing his skin. Aodhan clenched his teeth and ignored it, but as he neared the lichway, the fog thickened around him and a sound like whispering began to tickle his ears, but he couldn't tell if it was the wind in the trees, or actual voices. By the time he was near enough to see the pitted surface of the stones, he was trembling so hard he was surprised he hadn't bitten off his own tongue.

He walked slowly around either side of the lichway's entrance, squinting at the ground. He was considering getting on his hands and knees to search more carefully when a voice very close behind him made him jump and let out an embarrassing gasp.

"There! There it is, I see it!" Mirna yelled, pointing.

"Didn't I tell you to wait over there?" Aodhan asked, forgetting to be gentle in his speech. The girl had just stolen ten years of his life with the fright she gave him, so he felt it was well deserved.

She pouted. "How am I supposed to just stand around and watch while you're in danger? There's safety in numbers, you know. And besides, I really did see it."

Aodhan sighed. "Where?"

She pointed and Aodhan's heart sank. Those girls from the village had good aim. The necklace was sitting right in the middle of the lichway, a smudge of dark green against the dead, yellowish grass inside. Aodhan hadn't seen it earlier because he was trying to avoid looking within, fearing that it really was in there and he would have to tell Mirna they had wasted a trip because there's no way he was setting foot in there again.

Aodhan sighed, staring at the pendant, obscured by fog, but the more he looked the more he felt there was something familiar about it. He couldn't tell from so far away, though.

Mirna shook his shoulder. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Huh?"

She gave him a look like he was acting strangely. "Aren't you going to go in and get it?"

Aodhan was dumbfounded. Did she think he was immune to the lichway? He cleared his throat. "Are you perhaps unfamiliar with how the lichway works? It would be suicide to go in there. I'm afraid there's no hope of retrieving your necklace. I'm sorry."

He bowed his head, truly lamenting his inability to help. Expecting the girl to become angry with him, Aodhan hunched his shoulders, preparing for her to scold him, or even hit him. The blows never came. Only a cold snort. Aodhan kept his gaze on the ground but squinted his eyes in confusion.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Mirna's skirts swish about as she backed up to stand behind him. Then, with a force that felt like seven full grown men charging at him, Aodhan was suddenly airborne!

He went sailing for over twenty feet before feeling his stomach drop as he fell back to earth, landing in a tangle of arms and legs. He groaned, mind blank for several seconds before his breath caught in his chest and all the blood rushed out of his face, leaving his skin whiter than the fog around him.

The first thing he saw after opening his eyes was the necklace, lying innocently right under his nose. But it didn't belong to Mirna. It was his necklace. The dragon lay half entangled in the yellow grass; the leather cord was somehow repaired as if it had never been broken in the first place.

Strangely shaped shadows flickered at the edges of his sight. Aodhan scrambled to his feet without touching the necklace, feeling that touching it was worse than touching a plague victim.

The ghostly figures could only be seen indirectly. Looking at them head on was just like looking through mist. Their whispers rose up around him in a frenzy, agitated by his sudden arrival, but they had no interest in bothering Aodhan, who swallowed the lump in his throat as though it was clay and trembled in place, an unconscious whimper declaring his fear.

The energy of the lichway hummed in response to his presence, as if greeting an old friend.

Chapter Three - The Boy

Mad laughter rose up from the opening of the lichway. Through the mist Aodhan could make out Mirna's figure, bent over in mirth. Frozen, Aodhan could only listen to her demonic giggles and try to calm his heart before it burst. Making up his mind, Aodhan gathered the last of his strength in his legs and sprinted towards that giggling.

He knew it wouldn't work. Once inside the lichway, the only way to go was forward. As expected, once he got to the head of those white stones, he hit something invisible but as solid as a wall of brick and bounced back, somehow remaining standing. Panting hard, Aodhan blinked the blurriness of tears from his eyes and paused, astonished. Mirna was smirking at him on the other side, just a foot away, but she wasn't quite the same girl as before.

This, Aodhan realized with growing horror, was her true form. That carrot-red hair had become white, her skin the color of dandelions. Her height now exceeded Aodhan's, her limbs long and unnaturally thin, her arms hanging almost to her knees. Her teeth, plainly exposed from her feral grin, were pointed, thin as sewing needles, and innumerable. The eyes were black and lightless. The beauty had become a beast. Aodhan shuddered hard, backing up a step. He couldn't believe he had been attracted to this creature.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart. You should know there's no way out once you're in." The creature licked its lips. "Well, since you look like a sweet, little, stupid lamb right now, I'll tell you something for free. My advice usually costs a limb or a liter of blood, so count yourself fortunate."

Aodhan felt his head become light from a mixture of rage and terror. "Who said I wanted your shit advice?" he suddenly burst. If she had still looked like the sweet, innocent girl, he would never have dared to curse in front of her. Now, he didn't think the word was nearly strong enough to explain this feeling of wretched helplessness and anguish.

He had sworn to stay as far away from this evil place as possible for the rest of his life. His nightmares for the past decade had featured this exact event. It made him hope that what was happening right now was a nightmare as well, but his dreams were never so vivid. He wouldn't be able to feel the kiss of the spirit's misty forms against his skin or see the creature's green tongue flapping in its mouth.

"You'll be very sorry if you don't receive my advice," the creature said. "If you don't listen, I guarantee you'll be dead the minute you set foot in the Tir Na Nog. Still don't want my advice?"

In response, Aodhan turned around and covered his ears, though this was just for show. These creatures were crafty, every word designed to confuse, but not to listen might be an even bigger folly.

Seeing his stubbornness, the creature huffed out a breath. "Little lamb, do you think this is a game? The only reason you survived last time was - never mind."

Aodhan spun around unconsciously hearing this and saw the creature grin triumphantly. He had been tricked, but why did he still feel like the creature had said too much on accident? Its face was an even paler yellow, as if it was scared.

"Why did I survive last time?"

The creature scowled. "I said never mind that. Focus on how you're going to survive this time. Listen closely." The creature heaved in a breath and pointed behind him at the green pendant still laying among the feet of spirits. "That charm is how you're going to survive. You must wear it at all times inside the Tir Na Nog. If it leaves your skin for even a second, you will be ripped to shreds, your bones will become our jewelry and your blood will be our wine. Understand?"

Aodhan glanced back at the little dragon. So it did have some power. He thought for a while, but decided that if it had protected him before, then the creature must not be lying. He picked up the charm and slid it over his head, mindful of the burning gaze locked on his back. Despite being on the cold ground for so long, the pendant was as warm as his own skin, seeming to hum along with the lichway once it settled against his collarbones. He swallowed back the lump in his throat but didn't go back to converse with the monster any longer.

The only way to go once you're in the lichway is forward.

Ignoring the spirits parting around him, Aodhan strode forward, looking rather confident while his insides tied into knots. The forest, the Tir Na Nog, according to that creature, loomed ahead of him like a giant beast, dark and heaving breaths with every gust of wind. As he walked, he felt like there was more than one pair of eyes on him and shuddered hard, biting his lips until they bled.

In his head, he mentally apologized to his mother and sister. The sun was nearing the horizon, about to drench the land in darkness once more. They must have alerted the whole village by now, and once that creature went back, dressed in its fake skin, it would probably only stir up more trouble. He could only send his thoughts to them and hoped that one day he would be able to see them again.

At the end on the lichway, he paused, staring into the dark of the forest. Even if the sun shined brightly, it still wouldn't be able to pierce the heavy canopy of the trees. Aodhan strained his eyes to peer into that darkness, but everything was shrouded so completely, it was useless. Holding his breath, Aodhan stepped into the forest.

The whispering of the spirits in the lichway was left behind and the forest seemed as if it was holding its breath alongside him. For the first fifteen steps, he wondered if there was anything alive at all.

Something shifted before him. Aodhan froze. A shape detached itself from the darkness and came closer to him. The pounding of Aodhan's heart was so fast the edges of his vision became blurry. The figure wasn't human. It approached on more than four spindly legs, scattering the fallen leaves, but was still indistinct in the shadows. Aodhan's first instinct was to run, but the only way he could go was deeper into the forest, straight into the arms of other awaiting creatures. He could only hope the charm around his throat would actually protect him.

A strange, echoing chittering came from the beast, and Aodhan didn't know if it was his imagination or not, but his bones began to vibrate and ache in response to it, locking him firmly in place. A horrible thought came to Aodhan. Perhaps this was how it. . .captured food. A musty, dark scent rose up from it as it approached, reminding Aodhan of a slaughterhouse, of old and new blood comingling.

The creature was now within a few feet of Aodhan, but the darkness was such that he could only make out black fur, spindly legs, and a bulbous body covered with blinking lights.

Oh. Those were its eyes. Aodhan drew in a sharp breath and closed his own eyes, cursing the creature that used to be Mirna for lying to him. Charm or not, he was about to be eaten and there was nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly, he felt the charm heat up as if in response to his thoughts and the chittering halted abruptly with a final, surprised chirp. Eyes still closed, Aodhan's brows clenched together as the musty blood smell was replaced by something more pleasant, the scent of dark, wet earth.

When several minutes passed and he still hadn't been devoured, Aodhan dared to open his eyes. He was alone. The beast had retreated to whatever hellish place it came from. Unconsciously, Aodhan lightly stroked the dragon pendant, as if thanking it.

Once feeling had returned to his legs, Aodhan continued, stepping carefully through the underbrush. There wasn't anything resembling a path, so he had to make one himself.

As he walked, nothing else came to disturb him, and his eyes began to adjust to the darkness - or so he thought, but the further he went, the more he began to think it was getting brighter. Could it be morning already?

However, this wasn't the case. Resting against a tree for a moment, Aodhan paused in astonishment and noticed lanterns strung in the branches over his head. They glowed blue instead of orange and with a twitch of his lips, Aodhan realized that inside them were captured Will-o-the-Wisps, their gentle whispers blocked by the glass cages that trapped them. It seems he was getting closer to some kind of village. Aodhan gnawed on his lower lip. But was it safe for him to go in? The charm protected him from the sidhe living on the outskirts of the forest, but wouldn't it be too conspicuous for a living human to just waltz into one of their settlements?

He was still puzzling over the situation when a youthful voice came from right behind him.

"Are you going to An Uaimh Bhinn?"

Aodhan whipped around, every hair standing on end. Sitting on a low hanging branch on a tree just behind Aodhan, swinging his legs nonchalantly, was a little boy. He couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, his features rather precious. Despite himself, Aodhan immediately felt his guard lowering. He had to remind himself repeatedly as he approached that nothing was as it seemed, and of course, Aodhan was definitely the only living human in the Tir Na Nog. This boy could be any sort of devious monster.

"An Uaimh Bhinn?" he asked, stepping up to the boy's tree.

"It's the city just ahead. Are you going there?" The boy stared at Aodhan with eyes black as stone. Aodhan noticed a white, raised scar curling around his throat and disappearing into his black tunic, quite a horrifying sight on someone so young.

Aodhan turned to stare pensively at the lanterns leading off into the distance, unconsciously chewing at his lips again. "I haven't decided yet. What do you think I should do?"

The boy tilted his head, not expecting this question. "You care what I think?"

"Well, you've been there before, right?"

The boy inclined his head.

"Then I care what you think."

A smile curved the boy's lips briefly but faded as soon as Aodhan noticed it. "You should go. Better than sticking around the edges like a rat. The best way to blend in around here is to pretend like you belong." His eyes fell to the charm around Aodhan's neck. "Besides, someone with the favor of our lord like yourself won't be allowed to go unnoticed for long."

Aodhan's fingers flew up to touch the pendant. "Your lord? Who is your lord?"

The boy smirked. "Our lord is our lord. He's not one easily described."

"So this charm - means I have his favor?"

Hopping off the branch, the boy nodded. "I could smell it the minute I got within ten feet of you." The boy passed Aodhan, following the lanterns. Dazed, Aodhan stumbled to catch up, feeling his head spin.

"Smell it? Smell what?"

"Oh right. A human like you probably wouldn't be able to distinguish it from any of the other smells out here, but rest assured, you reek of him."

Rest assured? How could that be in any way comforting? I don't want to smell like some creature.

Unfortunately, this creature's scent was the only reason he was alive. So no matter how much he wanted to rip the necklace off and chuck it into the trees, he stilled his hand.

"Oh? And where can I find this lord of yours?"

The boy turned to give Aodhan a strange look. "Why would you want to find him?"

Truthfully, Aodhan didn't know if he wanted to find someone so powerful just their scent could scare away something as terrifying as that many-legged creature from before, but he figured that if he was willing to protect Aodhan, maybe he would know how he could escape the Tir Na Nog.

Then again, Aodhan had had this charm for a few years now, so who knows if this mysterious lord even knew it was in Aodhan's possession. After all, it was sold to him by a random merchant. It had come into his hands purely by accident.

But Aodhan figured it was his best shot at getting out of here. If anyone could help him, it would be a lord.

The boy seemed to read his thoughts and laughed. "Best of luck to you. I don't know where you could find him."

"He doesn't live anywhere?"

"No, he has a palace. But it moves. It never stays in one part of the Tir Na Nog for very long."

"Oh." Aodhan paused for a moment in his steps, allowing the boy to get farther away. Noticing the distance, he shook himself out of it and scurried after him once more. The boy never looked back at him, but Aodhan thought he might have heard a muffled snicker. "Then, do you know what he looks like?"

"That's even harder to guess," the boy said. "He has many forms. Sometimes he looks around your age, sometimes he becomes an old man. Sometimes he even looks like a child or even a woman. No one's quite sure what his natural appearance is."

Frowning, Aodhan tried not to be annoyed. What was the point of having so many appearances?

"But," the boy continued, "they say there's one surefire way to tell if the one you're talking to is him or not."

"Really? What?" Aodhan felt a bud of hope begin to blossom in his chest.

"Apparently there's a tattoo on his tongue."

The hope withered and crumbled into dust. How would he ever be able to check that? Moping, he absentmindedly sent some leaves scattering. The lanterns were placed at more frequent intervals. They must be getting closer to the city. "A tattoo of what?"

"His signature symbol. I'll draw it for you sometime. Not just anyone is allowed to wear it either. You have to be considered very special for him to mark you. No one has ever heard of anyone having such an honor."

Drowning in despair and pouting shamelessly, Aodhan moved to stand next to the boy instead of behind him, allowing himself to relax in his presence. "What's his name?"

The boy slowed to a stop and stared at Aodhan with his mouth in a thin line. "A word of caution, human. Don't casually ask for names in the Tir Na Nog. Names have power. Sidhe only share their true names with one person their entire lives, some never share it at all. Instead ask, 'what should I call you.' Much more polite." He continued walking, the tense atmosphere around him dissipating. "As for our lord, most call him Lord Maeron, or just lord. There's only the one so everyone will know who you're talking about."

"Ah," Aodhan hummed, noticing that voices could be heard ahead along with the typical sounds of a bustling town, along with the gentle sound of a flute. They walked comfortably in silence for another few feet.

"So, what should I call you?" Aodhan asked the one beside him, hands behind his back, looking very well behaved. In contrast, the boy walked with his arms comfortably at his sides, steps even and confident, like he was gliding, yet his gait was full of power.

The boy eyed him, lips curling. "I'm Kian."

Aodhan smiled. "I suppose I'll have to come up with a fake name, then?"

"It would be wise."

"Then call me. . ." Aodhan tilted his head, thinking. "Call me Sayv." Sayv was his middle name, so it shouldn't count as his true name, should it?

The boy laughed and shook his head, seeming to find Aodhan ridiculous. "Alright. Sayv it is then."

Aodhan blushed a little, remembering how his mother had wanted to name him that if he was a girl, so he could be her 'Sweet Sayv.' He was going to take it back and come up with another name, but once he opened his mouth they had reached the edge of An Uaimh Bhinn.

Aodhan was about to dart in, eyes wide and shining, but something shot out in front of him, a dark green blur and he yelped. Kian grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back.

A squat, lumpy creature blocked the path. "Password?"