I gripped the steering wheel of my ‘69 Fastback. As soon as the light turned green I peeled out.

I dared Gavin or Charice or anyone else in the car to say something. But they knew better. Fumes were practically rising from my head.

I was so close to healing Dad. We’d tried Dian Cécht, like the Morrigan had said. We’d even followed his unintended advice and went to the Slane Well. But it didn’t work. We hadn’t made any progress. Dad was not any closer to coming back. I’d failed my father. All he needed was a sip from a bucket at a well. And I couldn’t even manage that. Pathetic.

The more I thought about it the more anger filled me.

While I drove everyone home, Gavin called Mom’s cell phone. Turned out her, Aiden, and Nancy were safe and sound on their way back home as well.

“Sean,” said Charice.

Agitation settled in my jaw.

“I’m sorry, Sean.”

“Don’t be.”

“I wasn’t able to control myself.”

“Yep.”

“Just like when you were controlled by the Keening.”

“I know! You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

Silence filled the car.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m just mad. We were so close to healing Dad.”

Tain whined as he rested his head on Gavin’s lap in the back seat.

“If the Morrigan had not made me confront Diarmuid, he would not have a grudge against me. This never would have happened. Now I don’t even know how to heal my dad.”

Rob piped in. “You could try Brigid. A genuine apology could go a long way.”

“Oh sure, just approach the Tuatha goddess whose flower shop I thrashed, who I chased out of town and pursued to Tir na nOg in an attempt to cut off her head and puff out the Eternal Flame, which apparently would have ended the Otherside as we know it and Chaos would have won. Yeah, I’ll go apologize to her. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re considering it Sean. It’s the only way.”

“That was sarcasm. Of course I’m not considering it. Come on Gavin, back me up. I’m not crazy right? At the very least she hates me and won’t help us. She’s more likely to kill me then hear me out.”

Gavin threw me a lopsided frown. “I’d take the risk to save Dad.”

I didn’t like that answer. It felt like I was being accused of not wanting to restore my dad back to health, even though I knew that’s not what Gavin meant. Whatever we decided, we’d have to act fast. This night was shot. We only had a day and a half, and then come nightfall, Donn would arrive.

---

Somehow I managed to sleep. Bruises and bad dreams made it fitful slumber at best.

I awoke to find Gavin, Tain, and Rob all knocked out. It was early, but my racing mind would not let me go back to sleep. I wanted to go for a solitary walk, clear my head.

I held up my Chuck Taylor’s and inspected them. My sneakers were completely shot from the encounter with Diarmuid and the Barrow River. The soles hung from a thread, almost detached from the rest of the shoe. It was a wonder my heels hadn’t been burned by the river either. I’d only touched the water for a second and it ate away my shoes that fast. At least the same could be said for Diarmuid’s face. Who’s the pretty boy now?

As for my shoes, I’d have to duct tape them just to go to the store and get new ones. I didn’t have much money. Looked like I’d be taking a trip to Ross today. And there would be no solitary walk to clear my head. I poured myself a bowl of Life cereal and waited for the store to open.

---

Rob and I stepped into Ross hoping that the best we could do was find me a pair of temporary sneakers that would last at least until the next paycheck. I could not afford anything with actual longevity. We browsed the men’s shoe section. There were a lot of dress shoes, a lot of skater shoes, and a lot of basketball shoes, but not much in between those options. I eyed the size ten section. None of the options looked great, nor would they suit my needs.

I tried on several pairs of skater shoes. Not ideal for monster hunting, or running. There were plenty of high-tops, but I didn’t play basketball despite being a huge Warriors fan. But then again, I had discovered a magical “talent” for shooting perfect three pointers. Perhaps I should hit up the local casinos and start gambling. Really try my Good Luck at making money. I shook the thought from my head.

“They got nothing. Come on Rob. Let’s go.”

“Can I check out the toy section first?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Please.”

“Sure. But I’m not buying you anything.”

He smiled. “I know. Just browsing.”

At the same height as a kid, Rob’s veiled Glamour form made him appear to be a thirty-something year old dwarf, or little person. So him and I going shopping in the toy section was weird.

“Hurry up Rob.” We were drawing too much attention. He was way too thrilled about water guns and knock-off transformer toys.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“Hey look what I found,” said the hob.

I closed my eyes. “I’m not buying it for you.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Nope. Not buying it.”

“It’s not for me. Just look Sean.”

I opened my eyes not to a discounted toy, but to a pair of Chuck Taylor’s. They were bright green and where the Chuck Taylor ankle star stamp would have been on any other pair, there were shamrocks instead.

“Whoa. Sick.”

“Told you,” said Rob.

“Why are these over here?”

Rob shrugged. “Someone must have misplaced them.”

I wiped the smile off my face. They probably were not my size. No need to get excited. I flipped up the tongue and found they were exactly my size. I slipped them on. Perfection.

“What are the odds?”

“Pure luck,” said Rob.

Not only that but they had a clearance sticker on them, discounting them well below Ross’ already low prices.

At least one thing went my way.

I left the store with a spring in my step.

---

I had not attended class consistently since finding out Tain was my dad. I was spending my days taking care of him, splitting the duty with Rob. My guidance counselor already warned me about my low attendance. College was a pain in my butt right then. Not showing up to class meant not making any positive steps towards a career. It meant another year of GED on the horizon. It meant stagnation.

Showing up to class seemed to be a waste of time too, however. I was often too tired to participate, engage, or contemplate what was being taught. My focus was usually on whatever monster I was fighting that week, who was in danger of dying, and how I was going to stop it. Not to mention the dojo, and spending time with my girlfriend, time not fighting monsters. Coming to class did not ground me in reality like I hoped it would. Instead it left me stressing that I was wasting time, time I could have spent preparing for a new threat, or in this case, figuring out how to heal my dad.

But every attempt I made to get my dad back to normal exploded in my face. The burden of needing to fix him immediately weighed heavy on me. I kept pulling my phone out, expecting to get a text from Gavin, but each phantom vibration was nothing more than wishful thinking.

And then the teacher said something that made my ears perk up.

“Can you repeat that, Ms. Shaw?”

“I was saying, today we are going to do a brief overview of Celtic mythology.”

My eyes widened. Duh. I had switched classes. I was learning mythology now. I’d walked into class on autopilot. So concerned was I with all the madness going on around me, it completely slipped my mind that I might be able to glean something of real application that mattered outside of class.

Instead of slouching, I sat up straight and took a deep breath, forcing my brain to reboot.

My teacher spoke of the nuances of Celtic myth that made it different from mainstream myth, such as Greek or Egyptian. The main difference was that the Celts did not record their history with linguistic symbols like the written word, but instead passed the story down through legends and, wouldn’t you know it, myths.

All of that was fine and dandy, but I didn’t give a crap about how we got the myths. I wanted to hear some specifics about the myths themselves.

My hand shot up like a kindergartener.

Ms. Shaw looked surprised, but acknowledged me anyways. “Yes?”

“Who were the healer deities of Irish mythology?” I asked. I didn’t care that I interrupted the instructor, my dad’s life was on the line. Any information I could get was better than nothing and could make the difference in getting old dad back.

“Well there are a few. Dian Cécht comes to mind.”

“Yeah. I know about him. He’s crazy. And Brigid’s got the whole guardian of the Eternal Flame thing going. Anyone else?”

The teacher looked taken aback that I knew such specific information about the mythology. Her eyes darted back and forth, seeking an answer. “There is Cécht’s son—”

“Except Dian murdered him out of jealousy. I also know about the Slane Well, but Diarmuid destroyed it. Is there anything else?”

My classmates were starting to look at me like I was a weirdo now. I didn’t care what they thought. My life WAS weird. My dad was a flippin’ dog, and I desperately needed to get back to some semblance of normal.

Ms. Shaw started to get irritated with me. “We can resume this after class, Mr.—”

“Sean.”

“Mr. Sean. Yes, see me after class and we can discuss more specifics.”

I waited patiently for the remainder of the class. Minute upon agonizing minute crawled by. I listened, hoping to glean some information I didn’t already know, but what I needed was beyond a basic overview. After forever, class finally ended. I edged up to the front around the sluggish crowd of students leaving the class.

“It’s good to see you finally taking an interest in class. It’s all or nothing with you isn’t it Mr. Sean.”

I gave her a lopsided grin. “Sorry Ms. Shaw. It’s just that this stuff is more important to me than you realize. Now, besides the obvious deities we already named, are there any more healers? Even if they only had brief mentions?”

Again her eyes glossed over as she tried to recall. She grimaced. “Sorry. No Sean. There aren’t that I’m aware of. Perhaps if I knew why this was so urgent it could better aid me to give you the information you need.”

I exhaled through my nose. I’d tried all the avenues I could possibly think of. Maybe there was no way I could heal my dad. I sure as heck wasn’t going to tell her what I needed the information for. She’d think I was insane.

This situation wasn’t like going head to head with a monster or Celtic deity. That’s why it was so frustrating. I could not solve the issue with a sword’s edge. That got me thinking. Perhaps when everyone cleared out of here, I could draw Fragarach and use the Answerer to force Ms. Shaw to give me the answers I needed. The magic sword had a way of getting information out of people whether they actively remembered it or not. But no. That was crazy thinking. Pulling an ancient artifact seemingly out of thin air and forcing my teacher to tell the truth would not only get me kicked out of school, but I’d get a free ride to the local county jail in the back of a police car.

Wait a minute.

I had a magic sword of myth and legend. It’s magic was seemingly independent of Manann mac Lir to whom it belonged. Maybe there weren’t more healers or rejuvenating locations, but perhaps there was a magical item with healing properties.

“What about a magic item of healing? Like the Slane well, but you know, an artifact of sorts?”

Ms. Shaw started to shake her head, but then her eyes blazed. “Yes! There is. I don’t know why I forgot about it until just now. Legend has it that Dagda was the owner of a magical cauldron. It was said that anyone who drank the broth of the cauldron would be cured of all their ailments.”

“Do you think it could heal a mental disorder?”

She frowned. “My, you have challenging questions. That opens a deeper can of worms entirely. You’re making the assumption that the Irish Celts even had a concept of mental imbalance. I’m not sure if they did. I’d have to polish up on their myths and history. But off the top of my head I’d say no.”

I heard the words, but they didn’t register. The information I needed had been given to me. I only needed to know one more thing.

“Where would I find Dagda?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand the question. Are you asking for resources? I might have an extra mythology textbook I could lend you.”

I shook my head. I needed to be more careful how I worded the question. “Where does, excuse me, where did Dagda reside? In Tir na nOg?”

She went over to a drawer and pulled out a mythology textbook. She filled to the appendix. “D. D. Dagda. Let’s see. Pages 32-33, 76, and 108.”

She thumbed to the pages and scanned them quickly. “Aha. The island of Murias.”

Joy soared through my veins. I wanted to jump up and down, shout hooray, and dance like Rob.

Instead, out of happy compulsion I kissed Ms. Shaw on the cheek. “Thank you so much. You don’t realize how much that helps. Game changer information right there.”

I bolted out of class and left Ms. Shaw dumbfounded. Now all I had to do was get the gang together. The first person I needed to call was Nehemiah. He basically owed my dad a life debt and if he didn’t want to get on my bad side, he’d have to help me get to Murias safely.