We made our way up the steep path. The Sluagh kept circling overhead but Nehemiah’s Chaos cloaking seemed to have a lasting effect.

The path was always winding to the right and to the left was the steep drop off to rocks and water below, giving me the impression that we were on some sort of island or at least a peninsula.

Soon we walked around a bend through an ancient crumbled wall and I saw an ebony stone fortress cut into the heart of the mountain. The fortress reached skyward touting its lofty excellence as if standing tall against the very island it was built on. A colonnade with perfectly smooth vertical lines running up to the low clouds. Massive openings yawned. There was no door between the columns, inviting friend and foe alike to step into the dark like an open grave. At the top of the colonnade high above perched hundreds of Sluagh like a row of crows on telephone wire.

I shuddered. “Holy crow.”

Tain growled.

“Yep,” said Nehemiah. “This is the point of origin alright. Let’s hurry in and find the girl and get out of here. I didn’t sign up for this Lord of the Rings crap. This place gives me the creeps.”

We moved towards the colonnade huddled together, a row of ants marching under the Empire State building.

“Where’s all the guards?” Rob asked as we headed up steps spread wide as far as I could see to the right and left. A fortress like this would usually have some kind of armed guards on patrol. Unless the inhabitants weren’t worried about an assault.

I could not get the image of the Dullahan cradling his head out of my own head. “You don’t need guards to protect you if you’re dead.”

Nehemiah stopped, turned a full circle, then groaned. “I was hoping I was wrong but I think we’re on the island of Tech Duin, which makes that,” he pointed at the fortress, “Da Durga.”

“It’s a bad place. I get that from the Spirit Store vibe. Skulls, giant crows, dark mist. All we’re missing is clowns.”

“This isn’t funny Sean,” said the wizard. “This is the house of Donn, the Irish lord of the dead.”

We fell silent as we moved into the darkness.

---

Through wreckage and ruin we went. Parts of the roof were caved in, and other rooms lay open to the sky. No matter where we moved, we seemed small in the ancient halls, as if they were made for eldritch beings of massive proportions. The ground had cracked in uneven shambles, as if an earthquake had rattled the foundations of the fortress and loosed massive chunks of the floor, and no one had ever bothered to repair any of it.

We climbed and descended stairs until I lost track what floor we were on and if we were above ground or below it. During this whole time I could hear hoof beats in the distance and peered about looking for the Dullahan, but never saw him. Other times we’d all feel steady rumbles that vibrated through our bodies from our toes to our heads. Tain kept his nose to the ground leading the way followed by Nehemiah, Rob, and I. My hand was on my shotgun and I was ready to pop one off at the slightest threat.

Nehemiah stopped suddenly at a starlit doorway. He motioned us to gather quietly. I could see that we were on a balcony several levels above a courtyard and we could hear voices speaking below us. The voices were coming from two figures, one who stood taller than a basketball player, and the other whose height almost reached up to where we were.

“Who are they?” I whispered.

Rob spoke up. “Balor the Smiter, and Donn the Red.”

Nehemiah shook his head. “Balor is dead.”

“Balor is the one talking,” said Rob.

“Which one is Balor?” I asked.

“Neither one of them is Balor. He’s dead,” repeated the wizard.

“The red one,” said Rob.

“They’re both reddish,” I said.

Rob groaned in frustration. He hovered nearly over the ledge of the balcony and pointed. “That one is Donn the Red.”

Donn was thin with gangly hanging arms that seemed disproportionate to his height and width, but stood tall. There was so much webbing between his clawed, widespread fingers they reminded me of wings. Darkness shrouded his gaunt face but what skin I could see was a reddish brown hue. His body structure was comprised of harsh angles, especially his shoulders. He glided as he paced in front of the other figure, his cloak billowed behind him but still managed to cover his feet.

“Then who’s the burgundy behemoth?” I asked of the second figure that Donn was speaking with. He was like a massive volcano about to erupt at any moment. His one eye socket was empty, which was good because he was so tall he would have seen us peeking over the ledge.

Balor crossed his redwood-tree thick arms as he spoke to Donn. His voice was like a hip hop concert, all bass and no treble. Ashy, scabbed, and scarred burgundy skin stretched over rippling muscles. His only article of clothing was a filthy loincloth the size of a boat’s sail. Pointed ears poked out from his white shoulder length hair. His hair had receded so that the top of his bald head gleamed with sweat and oil, but he looked no less menacing for it. His spear pointed teeth made me wonder how he didn’t sever his own tongue every time he spoke. His presence was like the swagger of a champion boxer in his prime, undefeated, unafraid, and dominant.

“That’s Balor the Smiter,” said Rob.

Nehemiah rolled his eyes. “Except it can’t be because he was smitten by Lugh.”

“I think you mean smote,” I said.

“Shhhhhhh,” said Nehemiah, reminding us to lower our voices. “Just listen.”

We all stopped to listen, but I understood nothing. “What are they saying?”

“What do I look like? A thesaurus?” said the wizard.

“I know what they’re saying,” said Rob.

“Could you translate?” I asked.

He nodded and turned his ear to eavesdrop. While he was doing that a flapping of wings above me caught my eye. Thinking it was a Sluagh, my breath caught in my throat for a moment. Oh wait, it’s just a raven. As I was pondering if Tech Duinn and otherworldly places had common animals, Rob spoke up.

“Donn’s saying something about an agreement. Bringing shadow to Falias to take the stone.”

“Is that supposed to make sense?” asked Nehemiah.

“What’s Balor saying?” I asked.

Rob waited for the bass of Balor’s voice to stop rumbling before frowning and translating. “I’m trying to understand the context. It sounds like he’s fed up of working with Donn and he wants half of his strength in return for changing those from the surface.”

Balor grunted like an avalanche. Donn raised his voice in reply. They both began moving their arms more when they spoke.

“Things are getting heated,” said Rob.

Balor stomped his foot and the whole place rocked. Dust and grains of rock fell on our heads. The raven I had forgotten about glided across the courtyard and landed on a perch across from us.

“Why is the Fomorian so mad?” asked the wizard.

“Apparently Donn keeps requiring more of him than their original agreement spelled out,” said Rob.

Donn said something softly and instantly the behemoth became calmer.

“What did he say there?” I asked.

Rob’s smile stretched across his whole face. “Oh just something about him allowing Balor to rise from his slumber so he owes Donn big time.”

Nehemiah’s eyes widened. “He brought Balor back from the dead?”

“Told you so!” said the hob. “Donn mentioned he’ll get Balor his eye back once the deal is sealed.”

Rob giggled and the discussion below paused. I threw my hand over the hob’s mouth. “Be quiet,” I whispered. “What could possibly be so funny? You’re going to get us killed.”

“Donn, he’s the lord of the dead,” chuckled Rob. “Like your movie Dawn of the Dead. And you’re Sean, like Shaun of the…”

Nehemiah pressed his staff against Rob’s windpipe. “You best shut your Leprechaun pie hole or I’m going to beat all of the rainbows and gold coins out of you.”

The hob snarled. “I’m not a Lepre—”

“Shut up,” I said. “We’re missing vital information.”

“And it’s not D-A-W-N,” said Nehemiah. “D-O-N-N.”

“Why the extra -N?” I asked.

“It’s more omiNous,” stressed Rob.

“I hate puns,” I said.

Rob held up a finger. “Wait. It sounds like they’re wrapping up.” He listened some more then translated. “Balor told Donn to gather more sheep to be turned. And Donn reminded him that the Dragon stirs in its den.”

Balor barked some word, turned and lumbered from the ruined throne room, each step loosening dust from the ceiling and causing the pillars that held up the ancient structure to quake.

Nehemiah tapped me on the shoulder regaining my attention. “We need to find your girlfriend. Now, pretend you are a giant bird. Where do you bring your captives?”

“Down to the pits of the dungeon,” I blurted out. But then I shook my head. “No, it would have to be an area where the birds could fly straight into and drop their catch. Because the birds are dumb there’s gonna be guards there on standby who grabs the captives and lock them up.”

“That sounds logical. But what’s to say they don’t move the captives from that landing spot to somewhere else?”

“Because that wouldn’t be efficient,” I said.

“Efficient shmaficient,” said Rob. “The only place to start is where the birds land. Then we’ll see who’s right.”

We all nodded in agreement then heard hoof beats entering the courtyard below.

We peered cautiously over the edge and I saw the Dullahan ride into the courtyard. He dismounted and took a knee in front of Donn the Red. Since the Irish lord of the dead was no longer speaking upwards to a massive giant he lowered his voice so that we heard nothing but mumbling, but no doubt the Dullahan was snitching on us.

I ducked back down behind the ledge. “The prisoners have to be somewhere high in this structure, but not too high. And it’s probably going to be on the East side of the fortress since the birds always fly West through the Threshold.”

“But what direction are we facing now? The winding path here has me all dizzy,” said Rob.

“Tain got us this far.” I said showing him the phone again. He tried to pick up the scent but seemed unsure of himself this time.

I looked to Nehemiah, who closed his eyes, focusing. Eventually he raised his finger pointing and moved his hand and pointed exactly the opposite way that I figured was east.

Nehemiah took the lead and we clung to the shadows.