“Well, if you’re going to flirt, that’s the only way to do it.”
“Are you really older than Christianity?”
There was no use lying. The voice in her head had already told her everything. Besides, the whiskey was good, and I could blame everything I said on it if I had to. “Yep,” I admitted.
“And how did you manage that? You aren’t a god.”
“Airmid,” I said simply, thinking Granuaile would have no idea what I was talking about.
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you talking about Airmid, daughter of Dian Cecht, sister of Miach who was slain?” she asked.
That sobered me up some. “Wow. You’d win a shit-load of money on Jeopardy! with a brain like that. They teach Celtic mythology at the university here?”
Refusing to be distracted, Granuaile pressed, “You’re telling me you know the herblore of Airmid? The three hundred sixty-five herbs grown from the grave of Miach?”
“Aye. All of it.”
“And why would she have shared such priceless knowledge with you?”
That was a story for another day. “Can’t tell you.” I shook my head with seeming regret. “You’re too young.”
Granuaile snorted. “Whatever. So is this lore of Airmid’s the secret to your eternal youth?”
I nodded. “I call it Immortali-Tea because I’m fond of puns. I drink it every week or so and I stay fresh and unspoiled.”
“So this handsome face of yours isn’t an illusion? It’s really you?”
“Yes. Biologically, I’m still twenty-one.”
“Out. Fucking. Standing. Wow.” She leaned forward over the bar again, even closer than she had before. “So here is what I want, Atticus.” I could smell her strawberry lip gloss, the peppermint of her breath, and that peculiar scent that I now knew was only half hers: red-wine bouquet mixed with saffron and poppies. “I want to be your apprentice. Teach me.”
“Truly? That is what you want?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yes. I want to be a Druid.”
I hadn’t heard that one in more than a century; the last person to ask me to teach them was one of those silly Victorians who thought Druids wore white robes and grew beards like cumulonimbus clouds. “I see. And what do I get in return?”
“Laksha’s help. Her gratitude. And mine.”
“Hmm. Let’s put some details with each of those, if we’re bargaining.”
“Laksha knows you have a problem with Radomila.”
“Wait,” I said, putting up a hand to forestall her speech. “How does she know that?”
“Two of the coven came in here yesterday while I was working, and she-or rather, I-overheard snatches of their conversation. When I heard your name I started paying attention. They were talking about taking something away from you, but I don’t know what because they never called it by name.”
I grimaced. “I know what they want. Did they say how they were going to manage it?”
“No, they were talking about how they’d be rewarded once they got it.”
“Interesting. What did they say?”
“They mentioned Mag Mell.”
“You’re kidding. Mag Mell? He was going to give them passage through there?”
“That and a permanent estate.”
“Unbelievable.” My nostrils flared and my fingers tightened around my glass. “Do you know what Mag Mell is?”
“I had to look it up, but yes. It’s one of the Fae planes. The really posh one.”
“Aye, the really beautiful one. And it’s being sold off to Polish witches. I wonder if Manannan Mac Lir knows anything about it.” Manannan was supposed to be the ruler of Mag Mell. If he knew about Aenghus Og’s promise and had done nothing, then he was part of the collusion against Brighid; the more likely scenario was that Aenghus Og was plotting against Manannan as well.
“I don’t have an answer for that,” Granuaile replied, “but I heard one say to the other that they had to leave because Radomila would be waiting for them. Obviously that piqued Laksha’s interest, and that’s how she knows your interests and hers coincide. She wants you to get her a shot at Radomila so she can get the necklace back.”
“If you live below Radomila, why can’t she just take a shot any night of the week?”
“Radomila’s condo is highly protected, the same as your home is probably protected. Laksha needs you to get Radomila out of her safety zone and keep her distracted for about five minutes.”
“That’s it?”
“And maybe get something of Radomila’s.”
“Ah, I see. How about a drop of her blood?”
“That will do,” Granuaile said.
“Does Laksha realize that besides the two you saw here, Radomila has eleven other witches in her coven, all of them magically accomplished? She’s picking a pretty big fight.”
“Laksha can take them all once she has her necklace back.”
“Really?” If that wasn’t overconfidence, then it was pretty scary. I’d be able to hold off a coven like theirs long enough to run away. Take them out all by myself? Not so much. “What’s so special about the necklace?”
“I’ll let her tell you soon.” Granuaile waved away the question. “Don’t get distracted. Laksha says that she is already grateful to you for rescuing her from the sea, but if you help her earn true freedom again, she will grant you any boon that is in her power to give.”
“And how do I earn her true freedom?”
“Distract Radomila so that she can get the necklace back.”
“There has to be more to it than that. For example, where is she going to go? Into Radomila, or back into the necklace? She’s not staying in your head, is she?”
“No.” Granuaile shook her head. “She’s been a wonderful guest, but we are both ready to be alone with our thoughts again. I will let her explain that. Last but not least, you will have my gratitude. I’m not able to grant you magical favors, but considering that apprentices in the old days were worked pretty hard, I’m sure I’ll be working off my debt to you.”
“What if I don’t want an apprentice?” I asked. “I’ve been doing just fine without one.”
“Oh, I see. Getting shot is doing just fine, is it?”
“Why can’t I help you get Laksha out of your head and call it a day?”
“No deal. Laksha won’t go unless you agree to my apprenticeship.”
“What?” I furrowed my brow. This was wholly unexpected. Typically, any being capable of possessing another cares very little about the wants and needs of those it possesses. “Why does she care?”
“She knows that I don’t want to be pulling draughts all day for every Mike and Tom who comes in here. I want to do something fantastic with my life. I’m only twenty-two, you know,” she said. “I want to learn.”
“That’s good, because there’s not much else to being a Druid’s apprentice than learning. But if I don’t agree, then what happens? Laksha stays in your head forever?”
Granuaile shrugged. “No, we’ll figure out something else. Eventually we’ll try to get the necklace back without your help. See if someone else in town would like to earn the gratitude of a sorceress.”
“And what of you, then? Will you try to become something else?”
Granuaile nodded and held my eyes. Hers were emerald dappled with light, and they reminded me of home. “If you leave me no other option, I will become a witch like Laksha. But it’s not my first choice.”
“Oh? And why is that?” I asked the question casually, but it was a deadly serious one-perhaps the most serious question of all. If she took this opening to make a joke or to flirt or kiss my ass, I would tell her no right then. But she paused before answering-perhaps getting coached by Laksha?
“There are several reasons, actually,” she began in a low voice. “Laksha knows a great deal about magic, because she has been around for a long time. But she knows you are older than she is. Much older than any other being she has ever met, aside from gods. If that is true, then it follows you would know even more than she does and would have seen things the rest of us can only read about-and that is why I want you to teach me. I want to
