Chapter Fifteen
"The nearest Faerie ring is Ó Gríobhtha's Ring," Charlie said, pointing at a spot on the bottom right-hand corner on her map of Pine Valley, which was spread out on the hood of her car. "We're going to take Griffin Trail up. It's about nine miles."
"Can we drive up, or are we going on foot?" Sam asked.
"We can drive up partway, and continue on from foot for about two miles," Charlie replied. "We also have a litter for Cúchulainn, so two of us will have to carry him."
"That's fine," Sam said. "What else do we need to know?"
"Once we get to the Faerie ring, they'll be notified of our presence," Ivy said. "Essentially, we'll be invading their space, and they'll come after us. We might be lucky because of Cúchulainn. But he's not exactly in their favour, so they may not give a rat's ass."
"That's where Castiel comes in," Charlie added, lookling at him. "Obviously, the fact that you're an Angel holds some power over Titania, so they shouldn't give us too much trouble. She won't be able to use too much magic on us for fear of you."
Ivy nodded in agreement, but walked over to the cabinet where they stashed their weapons. She lifted a wooden chest off a slow shelf and brought it over. Setting it down at their feet, she opened it up.
"Pure iron," she said, taking out a long rod that looked like a honeycomb spoon, "blessed by Cardinal Cullen, and rubbed regularly with salt." She presented it to Dean.
"What the heck is that?" Dean asked, taking it from her.
"A footman's mace," Ivy replied. She gave a second one to Sam, then replaced the box in the closet. She rooted around a short while, then returned to their huddle holding two club-like instruments. She gave one to Charlie.
"And those are…?" Sam asked.
"Hurls," Charlie explained. "In Ireland, they're used to play hurling, which is an ancient Celtic sport. These ones are made of petrified oak from a sacred bog."
"We're ready," Ivy said. "Let's go."
The sun was just beginning to set as they arrived on the edge of Ó Gríobhtha's Ring. Sam and Dean carefully set down the litter carrying Cúchulainn, and the púca looked up at them with wide eyes – as if it trusted them.
Wish I could tell what it's thinking, Dean thought.
"So, how does this work?" Sam whispered.
Charlie and Ivy knelt to the ground and started to carefully remove the dressings on Cúchulainn's wounds. "We'll let Cúchulainn go into the ring first. Spread out around the edges and we'll all step in on my signal," Charlie instructed as Ivy soothed the púca, who was whining softly from the pain.
"Entering at the same time from different points lifts the magical shield around the ring instead of puncturing it," Ivy explained.
"So that the magic of Fey doesn't keep leaking through," Sam reasoned.
"Exactly." Ivy stroked Cúchulainn's head soothingly. "It's all right, boy. Go on."
Cúchulainn struggled to his feet and brushed the uninjured side of his head affectionately against Ivy's leg first, then Charlie's. They waited a few moments, and then the four hunters and the Angel spread out, as quietly as possible, around the perimeter of the ring.
Dean had learned over time that on certain hunts, he didn't have to worry so much about Sam as he used to. This was one of them: compared to what they'd fought against in the last few years, a few Faeries – even pissed off Queens with a death threat on somebody's head – were pretty easy. The person Dean was worrying about was Ivy.
It wasn't just because she was the one Titania was after, and it wasn't just because he had developed deep feelings for her in a very short amount of time. The fact that her visions struck her unexpectedly, and that they seemed to have a very intense and lasting effect on her, was what worried him most. At their very first meeting, she'd fallen twelve feet out of a tree because of one, and the two visions she had after that had distressed her both mentally and physically to the point of tears and exhaustion.
The last thing they needed during their encounter with the Faeries tonight was for Ivy to be struck with another one.
Don't worry, Dean. She'll be okay.
Charlie? He was startled to realise that he was a lot more used to it than he'd thought.
Who else, doofus? Even in his mind, he could hear the teasing note in her words. Do you want me to tell her anything for you?
Just tell her to be careful, and let her know I've got her back.
A moment later, Charlie replied, She says thanks.
Somehow, Dean was pretty sure that wasn't all Ivy had to say about that.
Everyone in place? Charlie asked a moment later. All compass points covered?
A scattershot response echoed through Dean's head. He grinned, impressed by Charlie's ability to control her powers so meticulously.
Dean, Ivy says she can see you choking your mace. Loosen up your grip and hold it a little lower.
Jesus, can't you girls leave a guy alone for five seconds?
The ring was a roughly circular clearing, at the centre of which stood a wizened, stunted-looking tree. Its branches splayed out and folded back onto themselves; its trunk was a twisted column of roughened bark. Crowned by dark, curling leaves, it seemed to give off a strange luminescence in the fading light. Cúchulainn made his way slowly through the ring to the tree. When he reached it, he bent his head down towards its base, and suddenly his form began to change. As he morphed back into his true form, an opalescent light engulfed him. It became so brilliant that they could soon barely make out his form within the sphere.
Now!
The four hunters and Castiel broke the forest line and entered the ring, closing in on Cúchulainn until they were with him around the tree. Ivy and Charlie felt the slightest shift in the air, as if the breeze had suddenly changed direction. Castiel sensed it too, and although he knew it would do no good, he uttered a prayer out of force of habit. They all knew the Faeries would be upon them quickly, and that Cúchulainn's status as a rogue wouldn't help their case.
Ivy and Charlie were there because of Cúchulainn. Sam and Castiel were there because they wanted answers. And that had been Dean's reason for going, too. But now he was here for Ivy, and here to lay a good hard one on as many of the sparkly little sons of bitches he possibly could. For her, and for what they'd done to her family.
Cúchulainn emerged from the sphere of light in his true body. Like Titania the night before, he was tall and slender and pale, but his hair grazed his shoulders in coal-black curls that framed a finely-chiselled face from which a pair of wide green eyes gazed in wonder around him.
"Dude. Cover up," Dean muttered, focusing his gaze on the far side of the clearing and throwing Cúchulainn the spare change of clothes Ivy had told him to bring along.
"Thank you, Dean," the púca murmured. He began to dress.
"You don't look like how the books say you do," Sam bleated.
Cúchulainn smiled. "Like all Faeries, I have a true form," he said. "The drawings in your books are just a few of nearly infinite possibilities."
Charlie caught Ivy's eye. He's kind of hot.
Yeah. If you're going for a death metal look I guess.
Buttoning up his shirt, Cúchulainn looked at them, clearly amused. Charlie's face flushed when she realised he'd heard the exchange. Ivy giggled.
"So, are we done here or what?" Sam asked. "Cúchulainn looks perfectly healed over."
The púca looked down at himself, considering his fitness. "It feels like it's worked properly," he said. He looked up and caught Ivy's gaze. "And while I am flattered that you chose Cúchulainn as my name," he continued, "I must correct you at last. My real name is Faolán."
" 'Wolf,'" Ivy laughed. "No wonder."
"If you don't mind, we should be moving," Cas said briskly, "before we find ourselves in the company of Faolán's…less benevolent kin."
They made their way back down the trail in relative silence and several paces apart, with Charlie at the front of their column and Castiel bringing up the rear with Sam. Faolán trailed a little bit behind Charlie, and Dean and Ivy walked in the middle together. Twilight had descended upon them and the light was fading fast; they were all more than a little eager to get back to the cars as fast as possible.
About a mile away from the ráth, Faolán stopped abruptly. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks, each of them tensing slightly as the anticipation of a confrontation engulfed them all. Dean moved instinctively closer to Ivy, relieved to note at the back of his mind that she didn't move away from him when his arm brushed against hers. Their eyes locked briefly, but long enough for Dean to note the look in her eyes. He quickly glanced at Charlie, whose terrified expression confirmed his theory.
"Sam, Cas," Dean hissed. "We've got company."
"How very observant of you, Dean."
They all whirled around to face Titania standing in the shadow of the trees at the edge of the path.
"Clever, by the way, girls," she continued as she stepped out of the shadow of the trees. "We almost missed you because of your little trick entering the clearing. Very sharp." Titania paused, then smiled maliciously. "Then again, you do have it in you."
"What do you want, Titania?" Charlie snapped, her hurl up over her shoulder like a Louisville slugger, ready to take a swing.
Titania walked around them in a circle, regarding each one of them in turn with her piercing gaze. "I want my payment, Charlotte," she said, stopping in front of Ivy. "I want your little cousin."
"Don't you dare touch her!" Dean snarled, swiftly moving between the Faerie Queen and Ivy.
Titania looked at him with disdain, but said nothing.
"You'll have to go through me too," Faolán added, coming to Dean's side.
"Faolán. You worthless carcass," Titania greeted, her fake smile showing all her teeth.
"Titania." The púca's voice was tight with hatred as he moved to stand between Dean and Titania. "You heartless bitch."
Dean could sense the impending Faerie showdown and moved backwards, herding Ivy back towards the other edge of the path.
Titania came right up to Faolán, her smooth brow furrowed with a frown of undeniable loathing. They stared each other down, Titania's amber eyes flaring furiously with rage as she stared into Faolán's steady green gaze.
Darkness descended.