It was impossible to tell that we were under siege, but we were. James and Sasarana kept glancing apprehensively out the windows. Sherlock was standing nonchalantly running a lint roller over my red surge jacket.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me wearing your jacket?”

I shook my head. There were other things to be concerned with, like Cliodhna and Aillen. “So, you’re sure she’ll come?”

He nodded and glanced up at the long, angular open window. “You hear that?”

I tilted my head toward the window. “What? I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly, it is the calm before the storm, the great breath before the dive. She will come for us. It is what she does.” The roller picked up a long strand of black hair off his arm sleeve. He held it up to the light. “Strange, for two people destined to be together, we have never been permitted to be together. As soon as we try,” he made an expressive movement with his hand, “poof, something happens.”

“What I can’t figure out, is why she wants to kill my mom so badly.”

Sherlock shrugged. “She’s insane. Don’t expect to apply logic to someone who is mad. I suppose she has to kill someone.”

“Yet, you still love her?”

Placing the roller down, he moved to his books shelves looking decidedly uncomfortable. He pulled down a book, licked his finger and began thumbing through it. Closing it he stared at me.

“What is worse than pursuing a love that you have been denied?”

“I don’t know.”

“Having it finally given to you. That is the great terror, because, in that moment, what if, what if you look into her eyes, or she looks into yours and you both realize love is dead.”

“It beats having her kill my mom.”

“Touché, young man, touché. I should have found a way to resolve this sooner than now. The problem is I am simply a coward.”

“So, every time you two try to get together this Manannan stops you?”

Sherlock looked tragically sad. “Yes, although, part of me doubts that it is Manannan at all. There’s a darker feel to him. Usually Manannan is generally a sunny fellow, but really self absorbed. Likes to look at himself a lot, if you know what I mean.”

“What’s he got against you two?

“I really don’t know. Everything in this world is, generally, of normal proportions: anger, jealousy, love, friendship. For some reason in Faerie, or Shi’ the portions become enormous. Anger becomes murderous, love becomes fanatical. It infects the soul, that’s why the system of visas was created, to counteract the madness.”

Sherlock stopped and looked wistfully out the window. “But I did love her, and I still do. It’s not her fault that Manannan has driven her mad.”

“Then just go to her,” I proposed.

“If I did,” Sherlock explained, “something would happen to separate us. It always does.” He sniffed the air. “Do you smell something burning?”

“Aillen,” I said jumping out of my chair and reaching for the spear I had left propped up against the bookshelf. The Dark Wizard had arrived.

Outside a voice yelled. “I know you’re in there, Fionn, son of Uail. Come out and meet your destiny.”

“That’s one terrorist too many,” I said bracingly. My father’s memory and death were still fresh in my mind. Ii made me angry, so angry that I had to restrain myself from grabbing the spear and running out to confront Aillen. “So it’s going to be a tag team match. Where do you think Cliodhna might be?”

“She’ll be watching. Looking for her opportunity to breach Lia’s defences, then she’ll make for your mom. She will use Ailen to distract us.” Sherlock was settling a white pith helmet on his head. “How do I look?”

“You look like Sergeant Pepper. Any words of advice before we face the great man of Shi’?”

Sherlock was examining me with a curious expression on his face. “You know, you’re father was the same way.”

“Same way?”

“When faced with inevitable death, he could always laugh.” He reached out and picked up an umbrella that had been leaning up against his desk.

“You worried it’s going to rain?”

He snapped it open and peaked out from behind it. “It’s fire proof, sword proof, spear proof and insane proof.”

I was about to say he didn’t have to come with me, but truth be told, I was rather grateful he was coming along. I should have been terrified, but I was clam and determined. Ailen had killed me (my dad) once, I wasn’t about to let it happen again. I just had to figure out how. Hopefully something would come to me.

We left the office. Sasarana and James had barricaded the front doors with stacks of books. They crouched behind them, holding brooms as they would rifles. James had a colander on his head. Aunt Lia and my mom were standing behind them. They all turned when they saw us come out of Sherlock’s office.

My mom gave me a worried gasp and she whispered, “He’s here.” But there was a flinty harshness to her eyes, a cry for vengeance and expectation. She was counting on me, and I suppose that made me feel brave.

“James, what are you going to do with that broom?” I quipped.

He turned around, the broom pointed at me. Aunt Lia swatted him on the head. “Point it out wards you silly boy. You could hurt someone with it.”

“With a broom?” I asked.

“I think I hear someone at the back door,” said Sasarana so mildly that nobody heard her. Nor did they notice her leave.

“Yes, a broom. I’ve enchanted them so that they shoot slivers.”

James flinched. He must have accidentally pressed a hidden trigger because the broom went off. A book in its path caught the wooden projectile that was traveling at such a speed that the book exploded into shards of paper.

“So,” snapped aunt Lia giving James a dirty look and turning to me. “What’s the plan?”

“I walk out there and plant this into Aillen’s chest,” I explained.

“You’ve been talking to Dagda, haven’t you?” snapped aunt Lia. “Of all the bone headed…”

“I’m going with him,” said Sherlock. “He won’t try to kill us right away. Cliodhna, who is most surely watching, will want to know why we are both putting ourselves at risk.”

“I’ll come...” said my mom.

Aunt Lia slapped herself against the head. “Is the world going mad or are you all just daft? That’s exactly what she wants you to do. She’s shaking this placed so that we go scurrying out. Then they can pick us off one person at a time.”

“I think that is very apparent to all of us,” said Sherlock down his nose, “but, do you have a better idea?”

Aunt Lia took a huffy breath and then as though she was getting ready for a good blow, just let the air out in a sighing breath of defeat. “No, I don’t, but there has to be another way.”

“There is,” said a familiar voice behind us. We all turned, and standing there, dressed in black leather, holding a helmet in the crook of his arm, man-bun poised on top of his head was Goll Mor mac Morna, and he wasn’t alone.

In front of Goll and his brothers stood the diminutive figure of Sasarana. With her neat dress and neatly folded flower pattern hijab she looked distinctly out of place. “So,” she said in her gentle voice and mild accent, “nobody heard the back door, so, I just let them in…”

Aunt Lia raged. “You let them in,” she howled. “You let the wolf pack into the den of rabbits.” She thrust herself in front of Goll, stretching up on her toe tips so that her wand could reach his chin. “Just give me a reason not too…you murderous traitor…”

“He didn’t kill dad,” I said placing a hand on her arm, which was trembling. She lowered it slightly.

“What are you talking about, he’s a traitor,” she spat out.

“I’m not even sure of that,” I said remembering the entire ambush. “He wanted to be Captain of the Finnan Finn, but it was Aillen who killed dad.” I turned my full focus on Goll. “What do you want?”

Goll was wearing an eye patch and behind him were four extremely large bikers. I recognized Kelly from Cliodhna’s bar, flexing his big arms with his MOM tattoo imprinted on it. I didn’t need any introductions to the others. Somehow, I knew them. The big bald fellow was Cona’n the profane, and then there was Garra Duv, the rough, and Art Og, the savage. They were the type to encourage anyone to cross the street to avoid them.

I mentioned them by name and they begrudgingly nodded their heads. I noticed they were taking their cue from Goll. He was searching my face almost as though he was looking for my father there.

“You know, don’t you,” his voice was dry and cracked.

The library was so tense that I thought it might go up in flames any second. I had to do something to take things down a notch or two. “What you told Aillen, when you went into the compound with Uail...was your eye magic? Could it see what your enemies were plotting?”

The murderous bunch of bikers just stared and little Sasarana slipped out of their way. I tightened my grip on the spear. Then Goll was on me, pulling me into his grasp and pounding me on the back like some long lost brother. Cona’n was swearing good naturedly and Garra and Art gave approving grunts. Kelly had picked up a cook book on vegan cooking and was leafing through it. The tension was gone. Somehow my comment had defused the potential bomb.

“I don’t know how you know, my pulse, but you know and that’s all that matters.”

“So, was it magic?”

“No, what was magic though, is that any of us got out of there alive. Your da saved us.”

Aillen screeched again from outside threatening to burn us to cinders if we didn’t submit. Goll gave Cona’n a glance. “I’m thinking that if that brave man of Shi’ wants to be tossing us threats, we should toss a few curses back at him, eh, Cona’n?”

Goll’s brother grinned and waded through the barricade of books, opened the front doors and started cursing at Aillen. The town once had a contest for Town Criers, and I thought they were loud. Cona’n, the profane would have had them weeping on the sides of the road. I was quickly learning that there was a great difference between simple profanity and creatively obscenity. It was easy to tell someone to go ‘do’ something to himself, but the description of Cona’n’s doing was pure art. Aunt Lia, blushing red, placed her hands over little Sasarana’s ears.

Garra and Art looked on expressionless. Kelly was sitting in one of the big wing backed chairs thumbing through the cooking magazine.

“Goll,” he called out. “There’s a great recipe in her for barbeque chicken. They say the secret is in the marinade.”

Goll was still staring at me. “Fionn, our great man of Shi’ has marinated long enough don’t you think.”

I tightened my grasp my spear and nodded. “Let’s go have a barbeque.”

“Art, Garra, you stay with Cona’n. I’ll take Fionn and Ciabhan out the back door.”

My mother and aunt Lia moved to follow, but Goll stopped them. “My apologies, my Lady, but this is something Fionn has to do himself.”

My mother was about to say something, but Lia said, “He’s right. This is his.”

“He was my husband,” snapped my mother. “I need to see him dealt with.”

Goll gave a terse nod. “Just keep her safe, druid.” I got from his tone that he must not like druids.

We went down the stairs through the children’s department and out the back door.

“I thought,” said Sherlock, “that Cliodhna would have had the back watched.”

Outside, stretched out on the parking lot, were Sammy Davis Junior and Dean Martin. Goll kicked one as he went by. “The back entrance was watched, but Garra treated them to a little play.”

Goll glanced over at Kelly who was still reading the magazine as he followed. “Could you put that thing away; we have business to deal with.”

Kelly gave a sigh and rolled it up stuffing it into his pants. “Sorry.”

Goll looked at me and waited.

“What?” It was a little unnerving having him stare at me out of that one eye of his. It was a strange eye, deep and dark, but the light of humour and expectation danced in it. It made me want to say something stupid in the hopes that it would be funny.

“The Captaincy of the Finnan Finn is yours.”

“You wanted it,” I reminded him. “You wanted to take it from my father.”

“I did at that. I wanted to fight him for it. I am a lot of things, but I’m no traitor who stabs a man in the back. After we had taken Aillen, I would have challenged him in front of everyone, so that there would no dispute.”

“And you would have killed him, if you could?”

“As Uail would have done to me. It is the way of the Finnan Finn, always has, always will.”

“Now, you want to give it to me?”

“No, of course not,” he said testily, “It’s yours because you won it.”

“He’s right,” said my mom. “You were there, with Uail when he died. I can see it in your eyes. Somehow you were there.”

“And that makes you…” continued aunt Lia.

“The Captain of The Finnan Finn,” I finished, “which you and your brothers are part of?”

“No, there are others, but they have to be summoned by their Captain. So, how are we going to deal with Aillen?” demanded Goll impatiently. I realized he wanted the Dark Wizard dead as much as I did.

I looked down at the spear, and looked up at Goll. A plan suddenly leapt, full formed into my head. “So, how accurate can you throw this thing?”

Goll smiled, which I took for a good sign.